A Way Out Of Ordinary
by AnonSF
Summary: Troy Bolton is the it guy at East High. Gabriella Montez is just a shy, ordinary student recovering from the death of her mother. What happens when Troy takes an interest? Will he be able to break through the wall she's put up around herself?
1. Chapter 1

I sighed as I walked down the crowded halls. Jocks chatting up cheerleaders, stoner guys exchanging illicit materials with a quick slip of the hand, drama club students poring through scripts. Nothing new; nothing exciting. Everyone here sort of stuck  
/to their roles in the typical school hierarchy. At the bottom, I admit, was me: Gabriella Montez.

I mean, nobody outright hated me; I wasn't bullied. I was just the quintessential nerd who sat at the back of the class and answered all the questions correctly. I preferred books to people more often than not, and found solace in the library rather than  
/the hustle and bustle of the cafeteria. I didn't mind, most of the time. It was just the way things were. It wasn't like I was new to being alone.

Bringing myself out of my thoughts, I walked into homeroom and slinked quietly to the back of the class, where I had been sitting for the past 2 months of junior year. Tucking my unruly dark locks behind my ear, I self-consciously pulled my dressdown.  
It had shrunk in thewash last week and I hadn't realized till it started riding up this morning on my walk to school. It wasn't ludicrously short, but it was shorter than I was used to, only reaching to my mid thigh rather than reachingmy  
knees as usual.

A shriek at the front of the classroom forced me to look up, and I laughed quietly to myself. Chad Danforth had just accidentally knocked his basketball onto Sharpay Evan's desk and she looked like she was about to unleash fury on him.

"Man, Chad's really fucked up this time. Ice Queen will never let him live." Someone whispered to me. _To me_. Whipping my head to my right, I saw Troy Bolton leaning towards me, the ghost of a smile on his lips. I was shocked; why was he talking  
/to me?

Troy Bolton was one of those people who was lucky enough to have found his place in life in high school. He was the hotshot basketball player who everyone knew was going places. And, just to top it all off, he was gorgeous to boot. Tousled brown hair,  
/a lean body that you just knew was packed full of muscle, and these vibrant blue eyes that made me (and probably every other girl at East High) melt. It was more than that though. He was in almost all my AP classes, so he must have been pretty smart  
/on top of everything else.

"Oh… I, um… yeah." Such an eloquent answer; I couldn't believe it. Why was Troy even talking to me? We'd been in the same homeroom for the 2 months since I transferred here, sat next to each other every morning, and he'd never said a word. I didn't get  
/it.

"You're Gabriella Montez right?" Troy whispered to me. I nodded, looking at him quizzically.

"It's nice to finally talk to you. I thought we'd get through this entire year not saying a word to each other." He quipped. I couldn't help myself – I smiled.

"Yeah," I said. "I guess we never really noticed each other, right?"

"Wrong." he looked straight at me. "I noticed you the second you walked in here the first day of school."

Instantly, I felt a blush creep onto my cheeks and I looked down, fidgeting with the ring on my finger. Taking it on, then off, then on again.

"So" Troy started, but never got to finish. Our homeroom teacher, Ms. Darbus, glided into the room, and every noise in the room died down. She had instilled fear in us from the first day of class, and no one dared talk while she was in the room unless  
/she'd said it was fine.

After that, the 30 minutes of homeroom consisted of a dry lecture on the use of cellphones in class, and before I knew it I was hurriedly packing up my things, ready to go to bio. Without a glance in Troy's general direction, I bolted. He was probably  
/too busy with Chad and the rest of his basketball friends to have really noticed anyway.

Why today, I couldn't help but wonder. Why had he decided he wanted to talk to me today? I didn't know, but whatever it was, I was happy. I turned and watched from across the hall as helped a shy freshman boy find a classroom. Troy seemed nice, like  
/he actually cared about other people. And with that thought, I chalked up this morning's happenings to his nice guy tendencies and put it behind me.

Halfway through bio, horror struck me. My ring! I had been playing with it all of homeroom, and I couldn't find it now. Tears stung my eyes – I couldn't lose that ring. It meant everything to me. I'll just go to homeroom during lunch and look for it,  
/I told myself. It wouldn't have disappeared. For the rest of class, I couldn't concentrate. I tapped my foot, anxious to look for my ring; once the bell signaled the end of bio, I rushed to the other side of school, maneuvering my way through the  
/throng of students more skillfully than I ever thought I could.

Once I got to Ms. Darbus's empty classroom, I ran to my desk and started to search around it. It wasn't on the desk, wasn't on my chair, wasn't in the drawer compartment of the desk. Nowhere. I sighed as I crouched under the desk; what a shitty way to  
/start the week. Admitting defeat, I stood up, on the verge of tears. Trudging my way to the library, I found myself lost in thought, remembering when I had gotten that ring.

 _"Mama, have you seen the book I was reading?" I called from the bathroom. It was a warm summer night and I wanted nothing more than to curl up with my book on the balcony._

 _"No, mija, I haven't, but could you come down here please" she asked me. I walked to my mom's room and flopped down on the bed, rolling around on it. My mom chuckled softly and pulled me upright, told me to sit up straight._

 _"Even when we're having alone time, you criticize my posture." I teased. She had gone to charm school as a kid, and was forever lecturing me on my posture and my etiquette._

 _"Someone has to." She shot back. She was in a good mood today, playful and motherly rather than her usual self._

 _"I have something to give to you," she told me, standing up and gliding towards the ornate dresser on her side of the room. I followed her, intrigued. I love when she gave me stuff; her jewelry was awesome. She opened the drawer and picked out a box. Cartier. I gaped – she never gave me stuff this expensive, it was usually just a trinket here or there._

 _"Your dad," she started, "gave me this when you were born. He told me that I'd given him something so precious that I deserved to remember it with something beautiful."_

 _I trembled as she handed me the red box. She smiled at me, her dark eyes twinkling. When I opened it, I gasped. The love ring; my mom had barely ever taken this off when I was a kid._

 _"Are you sure?" I whispered. She slipper a finger under my chin, tilting my head up so she could look me in the eye._

 _"I have never been so sure, mija. You have it, remember me when you wear it. Never take it off okay?" I nodded, touched that my mom had given me something so special._

"Gabriella!" someone was calling out to me. I turned around, rudely brought back to the present, and was surprised to see one Troy Bolton running down the hall to catch up with me. I wasn't the only one surprised. Everyone turned around, staring at me,  
/and I withered under their intense scrutiny. Looking down, I waited for Troy to catch up as I turned into the library.

"Hey," he looked at me. "I've been looking for you."

"H-Hi" I stuttered. Why does he turn me into a blushing, bumbling idiot? Oh, this is just embarrassing.

He rubbed his neck, looking down for a second. "You dropped your ring in homeroom." He said. "I've been trying to find you to tell you I have it."

"You do?" I perked up instantly "Can I have it back please?"

He chuckled. "Sure; it's in my locker, and I've got to get to class now. How about you meet me at my locker after school and I'll give it to you? It's locker 414, right by Mr. Milner's class." Before I could say anything, he turned and walked away, his  
/jeans riding low on his hips.

Waiting for the day to pass was torture. I couldn't wait to get my ring back, and yes, I couldn't wait to see Troy again. My crush on him was building fast – I'd never felt like this before. When the final bell rang, I tried to play it cool, making my  
/way first to my locker to put away the books I didn't need and not rushing towards locker 414 like I really wanted to.

"Gabriella?" I turned. Taylor McKessie, a sort-of friend from the Scholastic Decathlon, smiled at me. "Do you think you could stay for a little while today to help us understand Le Chatelier's Principle?"

"Sure" I smiled at her. Taking a leap that I hadn't really thought through, I said "If you're free this weekend Taylor, I'd really like to hang out; maybe we could have a sleepover? You can invite anyone you want."

She looked surprised, like she couldn't believe that I'd broken the barrier I myself had put up between us. But just like that, she smiled at me.

"Sure," she said. "I'd love to. Me, Sharpay, and Kelsi were planning on grabbing dinner but we could rent some movies and order pizza at your house instead."

I beamed, a genuine smile spreading across my face.

"Great!" I looked at her. "I'll meet you at the chem lab in like 10 minutes, I'm just gonna go grab something if that's ok."

She nodded and made her way down the hall, whilst I walked towards locker 414. When I got there, Troy was leaning up against it, fiddling with his phone. He looked up as I approached, grinned at me and turned to open his locker.

I smiled timidly and shuffled my feet as I waited for him to hand me my ring. Finally, he got his combination right, reached into his locker, and pulled out my ring. Relief coursed through me as he wordlessly handed it to me, watching my reaction. I put  
/it on, savoring the feel of it.

"Thank you" I looked up at him. "So much. I can't tell you how much this means to me."

He shrugged, waving away my gratitude. "No biggie. I figured you'd be worried about it; that ring looks pretty fucking expensive. I would have freaked if I couldn't find it."

"I mean, that's not why I was worried, but yeah I guess. It just has a lot of sentimental value and losing it would mean that I had lost something really precious to me and I just…" God help me, I was rambling. I couldn't stop myself. Troy probably thought  
/I was a freak and he looked ready to leave.

"Right, well, I um… I have to get to practice, my dad will freak if I'm late." Oh that's right. I forgot his dad was the basketball coach. I wonder what that was like.

Walking away, I felt like there had been a major shift in my life today. For the first time in 3 months, my dad's constant travelling and my mom's absence from my life didn't bring me down as much as it usually did. I felt lighter, better. I hadn't felt  
/this good in so long.

After scholastic decathlon practice, I said goodbye to Taylor and pulled my cardigan on, ready for my walk home. My dad wanted to get me a car, but I told him that I wanted to earn it. Plus, walking helped me think, so I didn't really mind. Except today,  
/about ten minutes after I'd started walking, a drop of water hit my cheek. Then another. Then another. Shit. I sighed and pulled my phone out, ready to order an Uber, only to see that my phone was dead. Hoping I wouldn't look like a drowned rat by  
/the end of my trek, I started walking along the sidewalk again, my bag above my head to protect myself from the rain.

But then fate intervened. An old, beat-up truck puttered alongside me, Troy Bolton sat in the driver seat. He leaned over and opened the passenger door for me; an offering, I realized. He wanted to help. Touched, I climbed in (literally, I climbed. That  
/truck is huge and I'm short) and shut the door. Troy cranked up the heater, before he turned to me.

"Where to?" he smiled at me.

"Oh um… 14 Calloran Place. You just keep going straight for a couple of miles, then take a right." I started to explain directions but he cut me off.

"I run past there all the time, so I know where it is. I'll get you there." He shot me a smile, and I melted. Could he be more perfect?

We drove in silence for a little; when he wasn't looking, I would glance at him. He had a nice profile. Long eyelashes, a straight nose, and lips so plump I wondered what it would be like to kiss them.

 _Stop_ , I told myself. You shouldn't look at him like a piece of meat. I shifted in my seat, and forced myself to make conversation.

"So, how was practice?" I asked.

"Eh" He shrugged, "It was ok. Same old, same old. I'm so sore from all the drills though." He looked at me and shuddered "we started conditioning today."

I had no idea what that meant, but I laughed anyway at the way he was acting. "Maybe try taking a warm bath tonight, it'll relax your muscles." Did I really just say that? I am so lame. I really need to work on what I say around him.

"I will. How was your practice? Scholastic Decathlon right?" I gaped. How did he even know what I did?

He saw my look and chuckled "I saw you coming out of the chem lab today with Taylor. She's all about Scholastic Decathlon, so I just put two and two together."

Oh right. "It was good. Probably not as demanding as basketball though, but I still enjoy it."

He frowned at my words "It's just as demanding. Not physically, but definitely mentally. I sure as hell couldn't do what you do, Gabriella."

I nodded, not really sure what to say. The rest of the car ride was quiet, and as Troy pulled up to my house, I smiled and turned to him.

"Thank you so much Troy. For everything today; finding my ring, taking me home. Really." I said sincerely. No one other than my family had gone out of their way to help me this much.

"No problem Gabriella. I'm glad I could help."

As he turned to start the car, I hesitated. I had to ask. "Troy" he looked up. "Why did you choose today to start talking to me? I mean, what was different?"

He smiled shyly. "I've kind of been working up the courage to talk to you for a while now. I can't tell you why today was different, but I'm glad it was. I've been a goddamn coward for two months and now I'm finally manning up and talking to you." I was  
/at a loss, but before I turned to walk into the house, I said "I'm glad you did." And with that, Troy grinned and pulled away from the curb, driving off until his truck was just a speck at the end of my lane.

I smiled wryly to myself. Not such a shitty start to the week after all; I couldn't wait to see what else was in store for me.


	2. Chapter 2

"I invited a girl at school to sleepover at my house. She's bringing a couple of friends too." I told Dr. Marin.

Alicia Marin was the only constant adult presence in my life right now. I saw her every Tuesday, and everything about her was comforting to me now. She always smelled of jasmine, always wore red lipstick that stood out against her pale skin. Her blonde hair was always curled loosely, falling in waves down to her shoulders. She dressed comfortably and professionally, usually in cream or pastel colored blouses that played against the blue of her eyes. I liked her.

She glanced up from her notes, smiling wide. "How do you feel about inviting them?"  
Another question. She always answered me with a question – was that a psychiatrist's trick? Did they think that if they asked endless questions they would get to the bottom of my issues? I like to play tricks on Dr. Marin, when she answers me with a question, then I'll answer her with one too.

"How should I feel about inviting them?" I looked her straight in the eye. She grinned at me; she knows my game and is pretty good-natured about it all.

"I think it's progress. You told me last week that you hadn't made any friends at school."

"Because it's not worth it," I told her. "I'm friendly enough if I want to be; but it's not like once my friends find out everything about my life that they're going to want to still talk to me."  
I knew what would come next. She'd tell me that I shouldn't think like that, that externalizing all these negative thoughts was simply making me feel worse. That none of it was true, and that nothing was my fault. It was a lecture I'd hear before from her, and just as I'd predicted, those exact words came pouring out of her mouth. I pictured myself anywhere but here, in the room that never changed. The mahogany desk was always polished, the in-tray and the out-tray always neatly stacked with piles of papers. A tissue box was situated to my right, on the small table beside the white couch. Pale blue curtains were drawn, so that the outside world couldn't see in, and also, I suspected, so we couldn't see out.

"Did anything else happen this week? Something different, out of the ordinary?" Dr. Marin pulled me out of my reverie. I glanced at her, then back down, fiddling with my fingers. Do I tell her about Troy? She'll probe and try to figure out my view on relationships if I do. But then, I thought sadly, there was no one else to tell; it's not like I had a mom to go home and gush to about him, or a dad present enough to want to listen.

"I, um… lost my mom's ring yesterday." I said softly. God, was it just yesterday? It seemed like ages ago. I didn't wait for Dr. Marin to say something, just kept going. I wanted to tell her before I chickened out. "Yesterday in homeroom, this guy kept talking to me. He joked around with me, and I felt nervous so I – I kept twisting my ring on and off my finger. I guess I forgot to put it back on in the end, because halfway through bio I was frantic trying to remember where it was. Turned out the guy noticed and kept it in his locker. For safekeeping, you know?" I looked up to make sure she was still listening. Of course she was. That was her job; her face, though, gave nothing away. She sat silently, hands tucked under her chin, waiting for me to continue.  
I gulped. "At the end of the day, after I'd invited Taylor to sleepover at my house, I went to his locker to get the ring. He gave it to me. Didn't ask me questions about why it was so important. Didn't… I don't know, make fun of the fact that I was so attached to an inanimate object. He just handed me the ring and shrugged off my thank you. And then he saved me from yesterday's downpour and gave me a ride home."

Dr. Marin was the queen of poker face. She didn't let on what she thought or how she felt unless she wanted to. If she had kids, I'd bet that this would have driven them insane. God knows it drove me insane, and I only had to deal with it for an hour and a half every Tuesday.  
Nonetheless, I waited patiently for my ramblings to digest with her. The dozen or so diplomas and certificates on the wall behind her told me she was more than qualified to tell me whatever it was she wanted to say.

"So what's the boy's name?" She asked. That's it? No psychotherapy shit, just a question? I stared at her suspiciously. Maybe it was a trap. Did she think that because I knew his name it meant something?

"His name is Troy." I started, and then hastened to continue. "Everyone knows him though, not just me. He's kind of a household name at East High. Captain of the basketball team, hot, smart. He's even nice."

"Do you like him?" _Shit_. I don't want to tell her. But it got me thinking. I don't even know him, am I right to like him?  
"I think," I paused, trying to word my feelings correctly. "I think I like the idea of him. Sure, I'm attracted, but if you saw him, you'd get why. It's pretty hard not to want him."  
"Do you see yourself with him?" God, what is this, an interrogation?  
I bit my lip. "Maybe. He was so nice; I think that's what made me actually think about all this. I mean, East High is full of hot guys, but not all of them are nice. Some are literally the definition of an asshole."  
She ignored my epithet; I suspect she's probably gotten used to a whole lot of swearing in this room. She looked me straight in the eye, and I steeled myself for the next barrage of questions.  
"So you like him because he's nice?"  
This time, I didn't hesitate. I knew the answer. "No. I like him because he's genuine. Truthful. He doesn't waste his time feeding me lies or asking me questions because he doesn't like silence. In fact, the car ride, for the most part, was quiet. I initiated some of the questions, but he seemed perfectly happy to sit with me, not talking." I smiled, but really I didn't want to talk about Troy anymore. It's not like he was the reason I was in therapy. Thank fuck, Dr. Marin sensed that I was tired of this discussion, and abruptly changed the subject.

"Are you still taking your meds?" She looked at me seriously. See, for the most part, I can come here and pretend I'm talking to just an adult, maybe an aunt, instead of a psychiatrist who was trained to analyze my every move. But when she asks things like this, I'm shoved back into the reality that this is what she's here for.

"Sometimes." I saw her ready to reprimand me, so I started to explain. "I don't really like taking the Zoloft and the Nefazodone. They make me drowsy and sort of, I don't know, dull my feelings?"  
"Isn't that what you wanted when you first came here? In our second week, you told me that you wanted to stop feeling, just for a little while."  
I shook my head. "Not like this. Everything that's happened is my fault and that's something I can't escape. I just wanted to stop feeling miserable, and guilty, and anxious all the time. But these meds are taking away the good feelings too. I want to feel good, and happy. I want to feel alive. I don't want to be stuck in this grey area where I'm going through the motions but not feeling any of it."  
"And you think that reducing the antidepressants, that will help?" I nodded. "Well, I'm not going to cancel your prescriptions. In my opinion, you still need the antidepressants; they act as mood stabilizers and I know you don't like them, but they're still somewhat necessary at this point." My shoulders sagged in defeat.  
"But," my head shot up. "I will reduce your medications by half. That means instead of the 4 pills you take a day, you'll only take 2. One Zoloft and one Nefazodene. I'm also going to have you stay on Lorazepam, to ease your anxiety."  
"Okay," I agreed. "That seems fair."  
"Well," she glanced at her watch, and picked up a pen to write out my new prescription. "I think time's up for today. For next time, I want you to really think about Troy, how you think he might affect your life, your moods. I want to hear about your sleepover. I want to see more progress, because today is the best I've seen you since you've come here." With a flourish, she signed her name on the prescription, ripped the paper out of the pad, and handed it to me.  
"Thanks Dr. Marin." I said, smiling at her. "See you next Tuesday." I made my way towards the door, but her voice stopped me.

"Gabriella?" I turned, and she offered me a warm smile. "I'd say, based on what you've told me, that this Troy likes you too. Don't be afraid to give him a chance." She winked, and then went back to her notes.

I grinned as I left her office, waving towards the bored receptionist. I felt that shift again, the one that told me everything was changing, and I smiled to myself.

After my appointment with Dr. Marin, I didn't really do much. I got a cookie from the bakery next door to her practice and walked home; once I got there, I contemplated starting my homework right away, but knew I was going to put it off till later tonight. Instead, I called my dad; he'd be excited to know that I invited people.

On the second ring, he answered. Prompt as ever. "Robert Montez." His smooth, detached voice came through the receiver. He was all business, all the time, these days.

"Hi papa."

"Gabby! Hi sweetheart, how are you?" I could sense his smile. No matter how much he worked, or how much I might resent his absence, I knew my dad loved me more than anything. Him throwing himself into his work was just his way of coping with the fact that my mom wasn't here anymore.

"I'm okay daddy; I just got back from my appointment with Dr. Marin. She told me I could cut down on my medication."

"That's great! Must mean you're getting better, huh?" he was so enthusiastic about this that I laughed.

"Yes daddy, I feel better these days. I even invited a couple of girls from my school to sleepover this Friday. Is that okay with you?" I asked him permission, even though we both knew that he wouldn't mind, and even if he did, he wouldn't be here to check that I did as he said.

"Honey, that's fantastic. Of course they can sleepover. What are their names? What are you all going to do? Will there be any boys there?" A million questions poured through the receiver.

"Slow down, daddy, one question at a time!" I giggled. "Their names are Sharpay, Taylor, and Kelsi. We're probably just gonna pig out on junk food and watch movies, and no," I rolled my eyes, "there won't be any boys there. Just us, papa." I knew the junk food comment would have him rolling his eyes. My dad was a health nut, and he was forever frustrated with my unhealthy habits.

"Ahh, mi hija." He sighed deeply. "I'm sorry I'm not there more often. I just… I..." I interrupted before he tried to find an excuse that he and I both knew was bullshit.

"Daddy," I started. "You don't have to be sorry. I know why you're gone, and it sucks. I'm sorry I'm not… I'm sorry I'm not enough." The last sentence was a whisper.

"Gabriella Christina Montez, you listen to me, and you listen carefully." Dad's outraged voice came through the phone. "You are more than enough, do you hear me? I could not have asked for a better, more perfect daughter than you. Me not being there is my own fault; I'm not there because of my own shortcomings, because _I_ am not strong enough. You, Gabriella, are an angel, and I thank God everyday that you are in my life."

"Daddy," I said. "I couldn't have asked for a better papa. I love you."

"I love you too, sweetheart." He paused. "Listen, I've got a meeting in about 10 minutes, so I've got to run. But I'm back next Wednesday; what do you say we go get you a car at last? I'd say you've earned it. And then after that, we can go eat at Vintage 423? I know you love their steak."

Immediately, I brightened. "Ok! That sounds so nice, dad, I can't wait. Then maybe, we can cook enchiladas the next day together?"

"Of course, hon. I told work I wanted a couple of weeks working in Albuquerque so I could see you."

"Thanks dad. You really are the best." And with that, I hung up the phone, a grin stretching across my face.


	3. Chapter 3

A couple of days passed uneventfully. I was now lying in bed, bored. I had done my homework, called my dad again. Finally, I decided to go for a run. Before my mom died, I think I willingly went for a run all of about four times in like, two years. I wasn't unfit – I'd go on the elliptical an hour every other day – but I hated running. Now though, it was something I looked to for comfort and happiness. When I ran, it was like nothing could catch me. Like I was free, from everything and everyone around me. With that thought in mind, I grabbed my iPod, tucked my key into the hidden pocket in my spandex shorts, and set off at a brisk pace.

About halfway through my usual route, I felt a presence behind me. Looking up at the sky, I noticed it was already getting a little dark, and I frowned. I picked up the pace, frightened. I didn't dare look behind me.  
But I couldn't keep up this pace for long, and soon I was bent over, holding my knees, sucking in as much as air as I could. Over my rasping breaths, I heard a familiar chuckle and froze.

"Put your arms above your head, don't bend over. It'll help the blood flow around your body." Troy told me; holy shit, what was he doing here? Silently, I did as he said, and found my breathing was becoming steadier.  
"What are you doing here?" I looked up at his tall figure. In this light, he was half obscured, shadows playing across his face. He couldn't have been more beautiful if he'd tried.  
"I was running too. I live like, right around the corner. I swear I'm not stalking you." He held up his hand in a placating gesture, and I laughed. Oh. How presumptuous of me, to think he would follow me anywhere.  
"Oh right. Well, I guess I'll be going now." I shuffled my feet awkwardly and turned. I had no idea why I was so shy around him, but there was something about him that made me submissive and timid; I wanted to be perfect around him, wanted him to like me.  
"Wait!" he called after me. "What are you doing for dinner?" He asked me straight up. I locked gazes with him, surprised at his bluntness.  
"Um, nothing. I'll probably make myself salad, or soup, or something. Why?"  
"Do you wanna come over for dinner?" he said it in a rush, as if he couldn't wait to get the question out of him.  
"I wouldn't want to intrude, Troy. It's ok. Plus, I'm not really dressed for dinner." I frowned down at my racerback shirt and spandex shorts.  
"Shut up," he said without malice. "You're coming. Call your parents and ask them right now." He said firmly.  
"Oh, I, um… I don't need to ask them. It's ok. I'll come." I _so_ didn't want him asking me questions. So far, no one in Albuquerque knew about my mom, and I wanted to keep it that way.

He looked confused, but shrugged his shoulders. "Ok, well, cool. Come on, let's go. Dinner is in like 20 minutes, and my mom gets fucking crazy if we're not at the table on time." He rolled his eyes affectionately at the mention of his mom. I could tell he really loved her.  
I smiled and fell into step beside him. He was right; his house _was_ literally around the corner. It was the first on the right. We walked towards the porch, and he must have seen me fidgeting from the corner of his eye, because he turned to face me.  
"Hey," he said softly. "Don't worry. I always have friends over for dinner; it's totally not a big deal. I mean, I know we're not really friends, you probably don't wanna be my friend I guess. I get that. But I –" I stopped him with my laugh. Now _he_ was rambling. What happened to the confident, outgoing, playboy of East High? That guy was nowhere in sight.  
"Troy, I want to be your friend." _I want to be more_. "Now let's go in, or like you said, your mom will go crazy." I smiled at him and he turned to open the door. I took a deep breath and followed him.

The living room was empty, but soon I smelled the warm scent of home cooking wafting through from the kitchen. So did Troy. He waltzed into the kitchen confidently.

"Hey mama," He walked towards a petite woman with auburn hair and leaned down to deliver a soft kiss to her cheek. She instinctively leaned into her son.  
"Hi sweetheart." She said, and continued to stir the sauce simmering on the stove.  
"Mom, I brought someone to have dinner with us." With that, Troy ushered me deeper into the kitchen. I walked slowly.

Hearing the footsteps behind her, Mrs. Bolton turned, a smile playing on her lips. She set the wooden spoon down, wiped her hands across her apron, and faced me properly. "Well, hello!" she said brightly, her brown eyes sparkling. "It's nice to meet you…" She trailed off, staring at me questioningly.  
"Gabriella," I told her. "It's a pleasure to meet you Mrs. Bolton. Thanks for having me for dinner. Sorry I'm not dressed properly." I offered her an apology.  
She waved it away. "Please, call me Lucille, or Lucy. Nice to meet you too, honey; don't worry about what you're wearing. Anything is a step up from Troy in his sweaty basketball gear or Lexie in that handkerchief she calls a skirt."  
"Lexie?" I asked, confused. Who was Lexie?  
"Really Troy, have you told Gabriella anything?" she chastised Troy, who was sneaking tastes of the sauce whenever Lucille wasn't looking. "Lexie is Troy's older sister; she's taking a semester off from college." She explained.  
I nodded. "Do you need any help setting up?" I asked her. If my mother saw me at someone else's house for dinner without offering to help, she'd crucify me.  
"Oh no, honey, the table is already set. You just go through and sit down with Troy. Dinner will be on the table in about 5 minutes. I hope you like fettuccine with mushroom sauce."  
"I love it." She smiled and turned to her sauce, giving Troy a reprimanding look. "I know you were eating from the pot, Troy Alexander Bolton. Don't think I didn't see."  
Troy just grinned cheekily and grabbed my hand, leading me towards the table.

"This isn't so bad, is it?" Troy looked at me, darting his tongue nervously along his lower lip.  
I shook my head. "You were right. It's all good." I shot him a reassuring smile and sat up straight, like mama had taught me. Not a minute later, Lucille called Lexie and Mr. Bolton to the table. When he turned into the dining room, he sat down, not even noticing me; it was actually kind of funny, how oblivious he seemed to my presence. Troy cleared his throat, and Mr. Bolton looked up, finally realizing I was sat next to his son.

"Hello?" he greeted me questioningly. "And who might you be?"  
"Dad, this is Gabriella. She's a… friend, from school." He glanced at me, and I stretched my hand out to shake his. "Nice to meet you Coach Bolton." I smiled shyly. He took my hand into a firm handshake, staring at me. It was pretty obvious he was trying to figure out whether he taught me. I decided I'd put him out of his misery.  
"Third period gym, on Thursdays." I told him.  
"Gabriella Montez," he said. "That's right. You're a pretty good shot in soccer. Thinking about trying out for the team?"  
I shook my head. "Maybe in senior year," I told him, "right now, I just want to kind of settle into the school, get my bearings." He nodded in understanding, and started a brief conversation with Troy about improving the basketball team's zone defense tactics.

"Lexie!" Lucille had, by now, placed all the food on the table. My mouth watered, it all looked so good. "Get your butt down here right now, young lady." She yelled. Suddenly, in a whirl of white shorts and a thin tank top, a pretty blonde girl appeared at the entrance of the room, her fingers rapidly moving across her iPhone in an attempt to get one last message in before dinner.  
"Phones away." Coach Bolton said sternly. Lexie sat down, and I went through the motions of introducing myself to her too; she seemed nice, but looked as if she was itching to be somewhere else.

Conversation flowed and ebbed pleasantly after that. The food was great, and the atmosphere was so wholesome and familial that I felt myself smiling; the Boltons were so friendly, they treated me as one of their own. I felt an ache in my stomach, knowing that my family could never be like this again, but I quashed it. I didn't want to be sad today, I wanted to try, like Dr. Marin said. I wanted to make her proud of me. But, towards the end of the main course, everything went to shit.

"So, Gabriella," Coach Bolton, who had now insisted I call him Jack, started. "What is it your parents do?"  
I froze, but then I collected myself. "Um, my dad is the CEO of some big auditing and consulting firm." I answered. I hoped he wouldn't ask the next question.  
"And your mom?" Jack asked. _Fuck_. I was cornered; I could feel my breaths getting shallower. I hadn't taken the anxiety meds today, and I hated being trapped into questions like this. I'll tell him quickly; rip it off like a Band-Aid.  
"My mom was a nutritionist. She… died a few months ago." I swallowed thickly, looking down at my plate.

Beside me, Troy had shifted to look at me, but I wouldn't meet his gaze, instead focusing on the tablecloth's intricate pattern. After a moment, I felt his hand reaching for mine, offering me solace.  
When I glanced up, Lucille was looking at me, sympathy written across her face. Jack looked like he'd regretted asking me any questions. Lexie… was Lexie. She looked sad for me, but she was also not letting her bring it down; I admired her.

"Dessert anyone? I have chocolate cake and coffee ice cream." Lucille broke the silence. I nodded enthusiastically, partially because I loved coffee ice cream, but mostly because I wanted to move on from the subject of my dysfunctional family.  
"Ok. Lexie, Jack, will you help clear the table? Troy, go on and show Gabriella the backyard; the lights are on and it's a beautiful night. I'll call you guys in for dessert later." Troy stood up, not saying anything, and offered me his hand. I took it, and followed him into a spacious backyard, with fairy lights twinkling merrily above us everywhere.

I sighed. "You can ask." I told him; it didn't look like he was going to talk anytime soon. He glanced at me, his blue eyes soft and comforting.  
"I'm not going to ask you, Brie. I wish you hadn't been asked like that at the dinner table, with all the attention on you, but I won't push you. You can tell me whatever you want."  
"Brie?" I smiled at him, glad I'd found some way to distract him. He blushed slightly, "Sorry, I'm so used to calling you that in my head, I guess it just slipped out. Do you mind?"  
"No, I like it. I just wish I had a nickname for you." I told him. He laughed loudly, "Please don't say Troysie. That's what Tiff and some of the cheer squad calls me and let me tell you, it's fucking annoying."  
"Your name is so hard!" I exclaimed. "It's like, one syllable, how the hell is anyone supposed to get a nickname for you?"  
"You'll develop one for me eventually." He said. _Eventually_. As in, did he want to hang out with me more?

"I want to tell you something." He said, and I stared at him, suddenly nervous. "Tell me," I said softly. He took a deep breath.

"The first time I saw you was our first day of junior year. You were wearing this black, off the shoulder thing, and jeans, and you'd walked into homeroom nervously. Chad was talking to me, I remember, and I told him to shut the fuck up." He chuckled, lost in his memories. "I was so intrigued by you. Ms. Darbus told you to take a seat next to me, and you did. You didn't even spare a glance in my direction; didn't stare at me like other girls do. No girl had ever really done that." He looked at me now, eyes wide and earnest. "I haven't had the best reputation with girls. I've been kind of a… player." He winced. "But I like you Gabriella. God, I barely even know you. But I want to know you. I want to know what makes you laugh and cry, what you like and don't like. I like you, Gabriella." I couldn't believe what I was hearing.

"You like me?" I repeated stupidly. He laughed, rubbing his neck, something I'm beginning to think he does when he's nervous.  
"I do." He confirmed. "And it would be a really good time if you told me how you felt, otherwise this is gonna get really awkward really fast." He added, looking down now.  
"I like you too." I blurted. His head whipped towards me and he smiled. A huge smile that lit up his face, it was amazing.

"So you won't mind if I do this?" He asked, inching closer to me and grabbing my hand, enveloping it in his own large one. I shook my head, grinning. "Or this?" he was leaning towards me now, and I inched forward too. Our lips met, and he gently coaxed my top lip between his, pushing against me. His hands felt their way to the sides of my face, cupping me gently as he applied more pressure to my lips. Eventually, I felt his tongue lick along my lip, begging for entrance. I hesitated, not knowing what I was doing.  
He sensed my discomfort, and pulled away, breathless. "I'm sorry," I stuttered "I just, I'm not really…" I didn't need to finish, or at least I hoped I didn't. Troy nodded, seemed to understand. Instead he pulled me closer to him and took my hand, playing with my fingers.  
"We can go slow. All the time in the world." He didn't say anything else, and we just sat in silence, basking in each other's presence.  
I wondered how Troy could be so perfect. It was like he didn't have a bad bone in his body, and it freaked me out. I _needed_ him to have a fatal flaw, so that when he realized I was fucked up, it wouldn't be so bad. I pushed the thought to the back of my mind, and settled back next to Troy, still not really believing all that's happened this week.

"Troy, Gabriella, dessert's ready!" Lucille called from the kitchen. Troy stood, and then pulled me up. We walked into the house, sat back down at the dinner table while Lucille doled out helpings of homemade chocolate cake and ice cream, which I tucked into right away. Yum. I made a happy noise at the back of my throat, appreciating the sweet taste on my tongue.

Afterwards, Lucille insisted that Troy drive me home. I insisted that I could walk, but she wasn't to be argued with, and anyways, Troy had already grabbed his keys and was heading towards the door. I thanked Lucille and Jack quickly, tried and failed to find Lexie to say goodbye, then followed Troy to his car.  
When we got to my house, I unbuckled my seatbelt, but made no move to get out the car. I turned to Troy, ready to thank him, but his lips on mine, moving urgently against them, quickly silenced me. This time, when his tongue darted across my lips, I opened my mouth a little. I had no fucking idea what I was doing, but Troy moaned into my mouth, so I must have been doing something right. That's when I felt his tongue against mine. _Oh_. I moaned too, and started to move my tongue against his, mimicking his actions. He broke the kiss after a while, pulling away to come up for air. We were both panting.

"Wow." He said.  
"I'm sorry," I started to apologize. "That was my first real kiss, makeout, whatever…" I explained. "I can get better, I swear." Did that sound lame? God, I can't even tell anymore.  
"Gabriella," he stared at me. "If you get any better, you might kill me. You're an amazing kisser."  
I blushed. It wasn't really a normal compliment, but I'll take it.  
"I better go in." I said, looking towards my big empty house.  
"I'll walk you in," he offered, "Maybe meet your dad?"  
"He's away on business, but thanks for the offer." I smiled. I'd been doing a whole lot of smiling this week; it was extraordinary.  
"So I guess, I'll see you tomorrow in homeroom then."  
"Yeah, I guess so. Bye Troysie." I teased him. He stuck his tongue out before watching me walk to my front door. Once I was inside, I watched from the window as he drove away, before turning to get ready for bed.

As I brushed my teeth, a thought struck that left me wondering for the rest of the night. Troy had kissed me, told me he liked me, but he'd never asked me out. Not on a date, not to be his girlfriend.

So, if he hadn't done any of that, this left me with the question, _what were we?_


	4. Chapter 4

The next morning brought with it a multitude of feelings. First and foremost was overwhelming joy because of Troy kissing me last night and confessing his feelings; then, excitement at the prospect of seeing him today at school. Grabbing my backpack, I waltzed out the front door, in a manner that seemed to reflect my happy mood. The question of what we were still lingered at the back of my mind, and I was nervous that we were in fact, nothing. But then, the Troy Bolton I had seen in the past week didn't seem like the kind of guy to screw me over, so I relaxed a little and resolved to not overthink this.

When I got to school, everyone was hustling and bustling as usual. There were still the usual stoner guys, the drama club members, and the jocks; it was weird. My whole world had basically changed overnight, but everything and everyone else seemed to be the exact same.

Getting to my locker was the usual hassle of pushing my way through the masses, and politely saying excuse me to the couple that insisted on making out right by my locker. I cringed as the guy's hand started going up Madeline's (I'd learned her name by now) shirt – was decency not a thing anymore? I so did not want to see people making out.

Finally, when their lips weren't firmly attached and I was getting my books for this morning's classes, I saw him. Troy. He was walking down the hall with the usual swagger; the one that all jocks and popular guys seem to have. The one that says, 'I'm invincible, and cool, and so much more than you ever could be.'

As he got closer, I readied myself to say hello, maybe to stop him and have a small conversation. After last night, my confidence was soaring. I was all prepared and everything, but as he got closer to me, I noticed he work a mask of indifference; his eyes were cool and calculating instead of filled with warmth like last night. My words dried up and I forced myself to look at Troy as he passed; his eyes flicked over me briefly, but that was it. _Fuck, fuck, fuck._

 _How_ could I have been so stupid? Of course this was how reality plays out. Troy was a player, he even said so himself yesterday. How could I think that a couple of nice guy actions and a dinner would fix that? This wasn't a movie; I wasn't the girl who changed everything. I was the girl that the mighty Troy Bolton fucked around with a little and threw away. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I forcefully shut my locker and walked slowly to homeroom. Where Troy would be in the seat right next to me.

I started to coach myself. _Ok, Gabriella, just act as if this week never happened_. It would be just like before, with me sneaking surreptitious glances at Troy from my periphery, and he'd be in his own little jock world, where everything and everyone was perfect.

But still, despite all this, I held a glimmer of hope that when I saw Troy in homeroom, he would talk to me and reassure me there was nothing wrong. That I somehow mistook his ignoring me in the hallway as more than it was. Walking through the door in homeroom, I inched myself past Sharpay, who might have started a conversation about our sleepover tomorrow night had I not looked so sad.

Troy was at his desk with a couple of his friends. Him and Chad were poring over the basketball playbook, whilst Zeke stared at Sharpay and Jason spoke animatedly to them, even though no one was listening.

In a way, this made it easier for me to ignore him. The rest of his friends intimidated me enough to not even look at him while they were there.

Unfortunately, I stumbled at the backpack on the floor near my desk; I readied myself for the pain of the fall, but that never came. Someone had grabbed me and hauled me upright. _Troy_. But when I opened my eyes, it wasn't the blue eyes I was expecting. Chad Danforth instead, was looking at me, his dark eyes wide with concern.

"You ok?"

"Yeah, I am. Thanks. You know, for making sure I didn't fall."

"No problem. I'm always there to help a damsel in distress." I liked him. He had a wry sense of humor and was quick to make light of things like this. Chad turned back to his friends, as if waiting for them to laugh – he was clearly the one who put on the show. Troy wasn't having any of that this morning.

"Chad," he snapped, in a tone I'd never heard from him before. "Are you done playing the fucking knight in shining armor? We have a playbook to go over before practice." His voice was nothing more than a mere growl at this point, and Chad immediately sat back down and got back to business.

What the hell was wrong with him? It was as if last night never happened. I sighed dejectedly and waited for Ms. Darbus to come in. All through that half an hour, I waited for Troy to say something to me, but nada. Zip. He ignored me completely and I was so confused.

More of the same happened throughout the day. I walked like a ghost through the halls and kept to myself as usual. Finally, after school ended, I went to locker 414; I might have been shy, but I needed to at least know where I stood, _if_ I stood at all, with Troy.

When I got there, it was a sight I wish I never had to see. Troy was there, but so was Nikki Belinova, a volleyball player who was – for lack of a better word – a slut. She was pressed up against his locker, his hands dangerously low on her hips, hers already at his ass. I turned away, not wanting to see anymore. I had to get to my own locker anyway, and there was no use sticking around; Troy had clearly moved on from last night, and I had to as well.

At this point, most of the halls had cleared and everyone was gearing up for a fun weekend. I, on the other hand, had already sent out an apologetic text to Taylor, Sharpay, and Kelsi, cancelling tomorrow's sleepover. I said that I wasn't feeling very well, and asked if maybe we could reschedule. They were pretty nice about it, actually; an array of 'hope you feel better!' and 'next weekend we're on!' texts bombarded my phone. Dr. Marin was going to be so disappointed.

"Hey." I turned, surprised to see Troy standing behind me, his hands wedged deep into his jean pockets, face flushed. _No doubt from making out with Nikki_ , I thought bitterly.

"Hi." I was being deliberately cold; I had no reason to be nice to him.

"I know you saw me with Nikki; I saw you." He told me this as if he was indifferent to my being there. I didn't know how to answer, so I just kept quiet.

"Look, Brie." I turned sharply, locking his gaze with mine. "Don't call me that."

"Well then, look, Gabriella," he continued, "Yesterday was great, but I don't think… I don't know…" he sighed, running his hands through his already tousled hair. Then he looked at me. "Yesterday was a mistake. You aren't… right for me. I just wanted to say that so you wouldn't, I don't know, get the wrong idea?"

"Get the wrong idea?" I repeated quietly. "Who are you? Yesterday you were… amazing. This whole past week you were nice, and suddenly, you act like a total asshole. You think I don't know I'm not right for you? Why even start something with me if it was gonna last all of like, 5 seconds?" Troy looked like he was about to say something, but I was having none of it. "Just leave me alone." I pushed past him, a wave of rejection washing over me. My Uber was here.

I keep my composure till after lunch. When my arms are elbow-deep in dirty dishwater, I felt the tears trickling down my cheek. Then full-blown sobs wracked my body. Eventually, I crawled into bed, drifting in and out of sleep. The whole weekend was pretty much like that. I'd cry a little, ignore any phone calls that came my way (there weren't many), and sleep. My depression was setting back in, and all because of a boy. A boy who clearly didn't give a shit.

Monday morning rolled around, and I dragged myself out of bed to go to school. Homeroom was pretty much the same as Friday: I was quiet and reserved, as I had been all year, and Troy laughed along to his friend's jokes and flirted with the girls around us. We had decathlon practice afterschool, where Taylor wouldn't stop asking if I was okay, and why I didn't answer her calls this past weekend. I smiled weakly and told her I slept for most of it, I wasn't feeling well. It wasn't a lie, at least.

I walked home as usual, but it took me longer. My movements were slow today; I'd gone back to my old prescription of antidepressants, so I was a little more out of it. Coupled with the fact that I hadn't really eaten these past few days, I was walking at little more than a snail's pace. My feelings were all over the place: rejection, anxiety, and sadness from Troy; but then gratitude and wonder that Taylor liked me enough to ask me if I was all right. I didn't know what to do with myself.

I went for another run that evening. This time, not because I was happy, but because I felt like I was suffocating with my problems. I wanted to run away from it all, where the problems of a boy who was an asshole and a dead mother and an absent father couldn't catch up to me. Eventually, I just immersed myself in homework and SAT prep till my eyes drooped; then, I just crawled into bed and hoped tomorrow would be better.

Tuesday. Had it really been just last week that I'd been sitting with Dr. Marin feeling so hopeful for what was to come? Last week, I'd had weekend plans for maybe the first time ever; a boy had seemed to take an interest in me. Everything had been so… different. And now I was here, 7 days later, back at square one. Even my clothes reflected my mood: leggings that I knew had a hole near my crotch but I didn't care about, a hoodie that was so big I was drowning in it, and my ratty hair up in a bun because I just couldn't deal with it. Much like I couldn't deal with anything these days.

School was the same old spiel, except that I sat with Taylor, Sharpay, and Kelsi for lunch. They chatted amicably, whilst I sat there, forcing a smile on my face. I liked them a lot, knew I could be friends with them, but I just couldn't bring myself to forge that bond properly right now. All my will to be social from last week had evaporated. I needed Dr. Marin more than ever right now. I needed my mom.

Dr. Marin was on the phone when the receptionist told me to go on through.

"Yeah, I know, Luce. I'm fine; I don't need to be set up! If I find a guy who likes me, I'll go for it. Leave me alone. I have to go anyway, I have a patient." She ended the call and smiled at me.

"Gabriella! How are we doing today?" at her words, my face fell. The façade was broken, and I started to cry. I never cried in session. Startled, Dr. Marin rushed to sit me down on the couch, thrusting tissues at me. I took them gratefully, and wiped the snot and tears from my face, trying to gather my composure.

Dr. Marin didn't say anything for a bit. She just waited till I was ready to talk I guess. Eventually, she just asked me what was wrong.  
"Last Thursday, I ran into Troy when I was jogging, and he invited me to dinner with his family. Dr. Marin, it was amazing. They were like a real family: they sit down for dinner together, no phones, they tell jokes. It was like… it was like what my family could have been if my mom hadn't died." She nodded for me to go on, not wanting to say anything for now.

I gulped, my heart heavy. "And then, they asked about my parents, and I told them about mama. It was awkward of course, but after that, Troy took me to his backyard and told me he liked me. I was so _happy_. I told him I liked him back, then he kissed me and drove me home."

"That's great Gabriella! What's wrong with that?" Dr. Marin looked genuinely excited.

"What's wrong is that it lasted for the blink of an eye!" I exclaimed angrily. "I got to school the next day and Troy not only ignored me, but flaunted his playboy status right in front of me and hooked up with Nikki Belinova in front of me! Then, he tells me that what happened between us was a mistake, and that I'm not right for him."

I was breathing heavily at this point, mad and sad at what had happened. I didn't miss Dr. Marin's look of sympathy.

"Honey, I know it seems like the end of the world to you. Every girl has had that happen to her at some point. It's not your fault."

"But why did he even start talking to me?"

"No one knows that but him; what he did afterwards might have been him being a typical teenage boy, or it could have been him fearing that he found someone he actually liked. Nobody but him knows, Gabriella." Dr. Marin was in full psychoanalyzing mode, and she hadn't even _met_ Troy.

I sniffled. "Or, he liked me a little up until he found out about my mom at dinner, and once he slept on it, he knew I wasn't right for him."

"I doubt it's that. And on the off chance that that's true, then he's most definitely not worth it. How did you feel after he dismissed you on Friday?"

The 'how do you feel about…' question. Everyone knows it, knows it's the psychiatrist's trademark. I just hated it when it was used on me, but I knew better than not to answer.

"I felt rejected. I didn't want to see anyone, and I ended up cancelling that sleepover." I was honest; wasn't like I was in the wrong here. "But not because Troy Bolton had rejected me. I felt rejected because it was as if he didn't want me only after he found out about my mom and thought about it for a while. I told you before that if my friends would find out, they wouldn't stick around. I _told you_ this would happen."

Dr. Marin sighed. She was doing a lot of sighing this session; last session she was doing a lot of smiling. "I think that you're overstating things." She told me honestly. "Only Troy knows the real reason he so callously dismissed you, Gabriella. Assuming that he did it because he found out your mother has passed on is very strange, and honestly, it speaks more about you than about Troy."

What? "What is that supposed to mean?"

"It means that when faced with some form of rejection, you assume that there must be something wrong with you, specifically that you no longer have a mother. It's not necessarily self-loathing, but it's a particularly negative and bleak way of looking at things." Dr. Marin was matter-of-fact.

"Whatever," I knew I was dismissing that thought because it actually made sense. And I knew that Dr. Marin knew that. But I didn't want to pin this on me. I just wanted to know what to do.

"What do I do?" I asked in a small voice.

"I can't tell you what to do Gabriella; there are so many ways to approach this. But if I were you, I'd start by not avoiding people who come close to you. Reschedule that sleepover. Being alone only serves to emphasize loneliness, and it makes you feel more depressed and isolated than ever."

Ok. I could do that I guess. "And Troy?"

"I'd talk to him. Clear the air. I know it seems like a lot for only a week of getting to know him, but closure is always the best way to move on, or solve things."

I nodded and started to gather my things, getting ready to leave.

"Gabriella," Dr. Marin started. "Have a seat. We have a little while left, and I'd like to tell you a little bit about me for a change. Make you see that something isn't always your fault, even when you think it is." This was new; I sat back down, ready to hear what she had to say.

"I was married, did you know that?" Dr. Marin asked. I shook my head; how did I never ask? It was only then that I realized that Alicia Marin had a life outside of this office, one that I'd never bothered to ask her about.

"Well, I was. His name was Adam, and he was a great husband; no one thought we'd last, because we'd gotten married so early. At 22." She glanced at me, gauging my reaction. _Shit_ , that's only 5 years older than me now. "But we lasted. He was a great husband. When I was in med school, he'd bring a home cooked meal to the library and test me on whatever it was I had to learn. He'd buy me random presents when he thought I looked down. He was the love of my life." _Was._ As in past tense. I stiffened, guessing where this was going to go.

"On our 5th anniversary, just after my internship at Albuquerque General, we started trying to have kids. But after almost a year and a half, it wasn't happening. We got tested, and found out that Adam was the… issue, so to speak. It killed me, because I've always wanted to be a mother. That didn't happen, and for a little while I considered leaving Adam. But I couldn't; I loved him too much to do that." Dr. Marin was wistful as she thought of him.

"Around a year later, Adam and I got in an argument, and I brought up the whole 'we can't have kids' thing. He stormed out, furious at me and I think furious at himself for not giving me what I wanted. I didn't bother to check up on him, I was so mad. On his way home that night, he got in a car accident. Hit by a drunk driver. Adam died on impact." Dr. Marin wiped away a tear and composed herself. I leaned over instinctively to put my hand on hers, like she does to me sometimes.

"If I'd never argued with him, brought up the kids thing, and made him leave our house, it would never have happened." Her voice was tinged with regret.

"Dr. Marin, it wasn't your fault."

She looked up at me. "Exactly."


	5. Chapter 5

The session with Dr. Marin had left me reeling. Could it be that she was right? That I wasn't to blame? I thought back to _that_ day.

 _"Gabriella, mi amor, can you go to the grocery store for me please? I feel like baking a cake."_

 _My ears perked up at the word cake._

 _"Chocolate?" I pleaded from my position at the entrance of the living room._

 _"Yes actually. Us women need to gorge on chocolate once in a while." Ugh. She is so smart._

 _"Sure mom. Whatever you need. I'll call you from there and you can tell me the ingredients." I picked up the car keys and started to turn._

 _"No!" she pretty much yelled. I startled. "I mean, honey, I made a list. There's no need to call me." Since when does she make lists? That's my thing. She handed a paper over to me._

 _Size 11 font, single-spaced. It was typed out neatly. Weird. My dad is coming home tonight, maybe she had planned this as a surprise for him. I settled down and took it._

 _"A4 paper? Toilet rolls? Batteries? Mom, these aren't ingredients for chocolate cake!" I laughed._

 _She swatted my arm. "Mija, the ingredients are there, but I figured I might as well get all the bits and pieces in one go, right?" Oh. That makes sense. "Go to Whole Foods; I don't want that cheap grocery store stuff, you understand me?" She handed me her credit card, and shooed me out the door._

 _"Bye mom." I waved at her with my back turned._

 _"Bye Gabby honey, I love you so much." She smiled at me. Affection too? God, she's in a good mood._

 _The past 3 days had been bad. Dad had to travel for some big corporate function in Amsterdam; his company was expanding or something. Because of that, my mom had been in an even bigger funk than usual, so I had to take care of her and try to convince her that daddy didn't wanna leave her. It was nice to see her happy today, I was starting to get worried; but like Dad always says, mama has always been like that. One day she was happy and high as a kite, and the next she couldn't get out of bed she'd be so depressed._

 _This list was taking me ages, but I worked through it methodically, finishing it in pretty record time if I do say so myself. Proud to have finished quickly, I loaded the bags into the car and set off on the 20 minute drive back home._

 _As I pulled up, I saw police cars all over our lawn and the neighbor's lawn. Mrs. Randelle was always drinking, so I figured that she'd been arrested because of a DUI or something. I parked in front of my house and got out, which is when a young officer approached me. I froze. Something wasn't right, I knew it. I had this awful feeling in the pit of my stomach and I felt bile rising to my throat._

 _"Miss? Is this your home?" the officer looked at me. Officer Andy Parkwell, his badge told me. He had kind green eyes, and if I weren't so scared, I'd probably have found him pretty attractive._

 _"Miss?" he repeated, pressing for an answer. I nodded my head._

 _"Miss you're going to have to come with me." He told me, holding my forearm._

 _"Am I in trouble?"_

 _"I'm not at liberty to say ma'am." He looked uncomfortable. If he wasn't going to tell me anything, I'd just find out for myself. I wrestled my way out of my grip, my grocery bags still dangling for my forearms, and marched through my open front door. I didn't realize the door had been forcefully opened, that it was now dangling on its hinges._

 _"Mom!" I called. "Mom, there's like, a million police cars outside. What the hell is going…" my words dried in my mouth, because as I had turned into the kitchen, at the island where I sit on every morning for breakfast, I saw my mother lying on the floor. Her head lay in a pool of blood, and when I tore my eyes away from that, I saw a gun by her hand._

 _First I vomited. Then I screamed. And screamed. And screamed. The grocery bags suddenly grew heavy, and I felt myself falling to the ground, still crying and shouting incoherently. Everyone around me was looking at me with sympathy, but I couldn't look past my own grief to care that I was being watched. Eventually Officer Parkwell pulled me off the ground whilst I kicked and screamed, and took me to an ambulance outside. They sedated me and put me in a hospital room to sleep until my dad arrived, at which point we both started crying. At least he was here._

 _We moved about a week after that. My dad bought us a house in Albuquerque, and we had mom buried there so that if I wanted to, I could visit her._

 _I don't though. I don't visit her because the sight of her gravestone makes me sick. It makes me feel so stupid for believing she was better, for not paying more attention, for not being able to stop her. It made me feel guilty, and I just didn't want to go._

 _This is where I left mama._

I finally understood where Dr. Marin and my dad were coming from when they said it wasn't my fault. I felt like a freight train had hit me, because for the first time since July, the weight I'd been carrying had lifted off my shoulders. That metaphoric albatross had fallen loose from my neck and set me free. Yes, I had left my mom that day to go to the grocery store, but it didn't make me guilty. It made me someone who had believed in the best, who hadn't thought my mom would do that. And that isn't a crime, I told myself. I lay back in the Uber, my head against the headrest, and I made a rash decision.

"Um, excuse me sir? Do you mind taking me somewhere different to the location I've already said please?"

"Sure honey, where do you want to go?"

"Fairview Memorial Park Cemetery, please." I can't believe I'm doing this.

The driver made a U-turn and I looked anxiously out the window. Finally, after what felt like forever, we got to the cemetery. I got out, thanking the driver, and walked slowly to the high iron gates. It was a beautiful place, if I'm being completely honest; nothing but the best for Maria Catalina Montez. I hadn't been here since the funeral, so it took me longer than it should have to reach my mom's gravestone; sitting on the damp grass, my knees brought up to my chest, I realized I didn't have any flowers, but I figured that I could bring some next time.

I didn't really want to talk, so I just sat in front of my mom's headstone for a little bit, weirdly at peace in this eerie open space.

"Gabriella?" I turned, and saw a kind of confused and completely surprised Chad Danforth walking approaching me.

"Mind if I sit?" I nodded and he stuck his letterman jacket on the grass before he settled down onto it.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, my voice thick with emotion and unshed tears.

"My pappy is buried right by that tree." He pointed at a weeping willow a few gravestones down from mama's. "Thought I'd pay him a visit. It's his birthday today." He looked away, but I had already seen his red-rimmed eyes; he'd clearly been crying. When I looked back at him, he was reading the writing on my mom's gravestone.

"Your mom?"

"Yeah. She died a few months ago." I was quiet, but words were good. Talking was good.

"How?" He was the first person to be brave enough to ask. When they'd found out, people from my old school had all sent their condolences. But no one asked how, either because they already knew or because they didn't have the guts. But Chad had come right out and asked me, maybe because he had nothing to lose by asking.

I considered lying. Car accident? Murder? Heart attack? I could have said any of it, but I didn't want to lie to Chad. He didn't seem like a bad person.

I cleared my throat. "She um, killed herself. Gunshot to the head." If Chad was startled, he didn't show it. He just nodded, and we sat in a comfortable silence for a little. Then, I realized I was sitting with Troy's best friend. Was it bad that I wanted to ask him stuff now, here? Would that be wrong? I figured I might as well try – I had nothing to lose.

"Chad?"

"Hm?"

"Did Troy tell you I went to his house for dinner last week?" he looked at me, his brown eyes wary of what was to come, but not wary enough for me to stop myself from carrying on this conversation.

"Yeah, he did. He told me everything about that night, Gabriella."

"Then, do you know why he's been such a dick since then? I mean, what changed?" I was desperate to know, and Chad at this point, was my only hope. I wasn't brave enough to ask Troy.

"What do you think changed, Gabriella? What did he say to you?"

"I think he realized I'm damaged goods after I'd told him my mom died, and he took the chance to bolt when he could. He told me I wasn't right for him, so I'm guessing I'm not that far off."

Chad shook his head, his curls flying everywhere. "Man, he fucked up. He's so fucking stupid sometimes. Gabriella, Troy doesn't think you aren't right for him; he thinks he's not right for you. He thinks you're too good for him, and that he'll hurt you."

"What?"

"I've already said way too much. You should be hearing this from Troy, not me." It was at this point that I'd decided I really liked Chad. He came off as a goofball and sometimes even a little douchey and stupid, but actually, he was incredibly perceptive and really kind, as well as totally loyal to his friends. He was the kind of person I'd want as a brother, or a best friend. Troy couldn't have been luckier.

"It's not like Troy is talking to me right now." I told him, a bitter edge to my voice.

"So you talk to him." Chad said. "Make him listen to you. Make him tell you his reasons for being a dumbass, so you can either move on from whatever you guys were, or fix it." He looked up at the sky. "It's getting dark. We should probably head on home; do you have a ride?"

"I can order an Uber, don't worry about it."

"That's dumb, I can just drop you home. 14 Calloran Place, right?" I gaped at him. Why does he know my address? Creepy.

"Troy told me, before you think I'm some crazy ass stalker, alright? He told me he dropped you home, and then he told me the address. I just remembered it." His face was guileless, so I just nodded and got up.

"Thanks. You know, for the offer. Way better than an Uber."

"Just wait till you see my monster of a car and you have to climb to get in. You won't be thanking me then." He joked, nudging my shoulder playfully, and I laughed loudly. Chad Danforth was a pretty cool guy.

True to his word, the car was massive. It was one of those Range Rovers that was lifted high off the ground; high enough that Chad had to hoist me up because I was too short to make it myself. Humiliating.

As we drove home, it occurred to me that I wanted to see if Chad wanted anything from me, since he'd been so kind to tell me about Troy.

"So Chad, is there anything that I can do for you?" He glanced at me quizzically. I elaborated. "Well, you were kind enough to tell me some stuff about Troy, so I figure that if you have anything you want to tell me, I'm all ears."

Chad's ears turned a rosy pink. "Well," he started. "You're friends with Taylor right?" I mean, I guess we were, so I nodded. "I kind of like her. As in I've had massive crush on her since she dropped paint on me in detention last year. Would you put in a good word for me? I don't wanna face total rejection if I ask her out."

"So cute! I'll hint to her how great a guy you are, don't worry." He grinned goofily at me, and after that, the rest of the car ride was filled with his jokes and good-natured teasing. Being around him put me in a happier mood than I'd been all week, and I hoped I'd be able to hang out with him some more every once in a while. He must have thought so too, because he asked for my number and told me to text him if I ever needed anything.

"Bye!" I waved to Chad as he drove off and skipped to the front door of my house.

Today might have gotten off to a really shitty start, but it had started to look up in the afternoon. Now, all I had to do was talk to Troy tomorrow and figure everything out.


	6. Chapter 6

Much like my life could be split into parts – you know, childhood, then teens, then adulthood – my wardrobe was clearly split. There were my _before mom died_ and _after mom died_ clothes; the 'befores' consisted of pretty clothing, sometimes edgy, and generally fashionable. The 'afters' were made up of sweatpants, hoodies, and leggings with boring grey tops. Today, having woken up with renewed hope, I pulled open the wardrobe that held all the befores.

Blue jeans, I decided. Sky blue, and a white off the shoulder top too. Maybe a cute grey cardigan to go, and edgy black ankle boots to complete the look, along with some gold jewelry to match my love ring. I hadn't put this much effort into my appearance since summer, and it actually felt good. I really felt like I was getting the old me back; the one who'd sing along to really bad radio, and actually invite people for sleepovers every once in a while.

With my hair curling neatly down my back and some light makeup gracing my face, I grabbed a granola bar and my backpack, ready to walk to school. On the way there, I tried to think of a way to talk to Troy today, to get him alone. I realized it was near impossible; we weren't in the same social crowd, so it would look weird if I approached him. Plus, he was _never_ alone. There was always a girl hanging off his arm trying to woo him, or his little basketball crew hollering in the halls. He didn't even leave school at the same time as me, since he almost always had basketball training. We were in the same classes, but we didn't sit near each other, except for homeroom. And in homeroom, we weren't allowed to talk if we wanted to keep ourselves same from the wrath of Ms. Darbus. Ugh, this was impossible!

Admitting defeat (for now), I carried on in the direction of my locker. Madeline and her boyfriend Josh were making out on it as usual, and I was in such a good mood today I cleared my throat and waited patiently till he pulled his hands out from under her shirt, waving them at me as if he'd just done a magic trick. I still had a while to go till the bell rang, but with nothing better to do I decided I could just go to homeroom and read a book or something.

Fate struck as I walked into Ms. Darbus's room. I was walking in, and Troy was walking out, resulting in one of the most clichéd, movie-scenario, falls to the floor that you could ever imagine, except that this actually hurt.

"Ow." I bit my lip to ward off screaming in pain, but that didn't go unnoticed by Troy, who was lying underneath me and could see my face up close. He frowned.

"Are you ok?" his voice was still cold, but I could swear his eyes had softened. I got up, only to feel my ankle give out from under me. I fell down again but Troy was holding me up. Thank god the room was empty.

"Lean on me for support. We can go to the nurse's office; I'll text my dad to tell Ms. Darbus. They're both in the staffroom." I did as he told me and together, we made our way down the hall. When we got to the stairs, we started making our way down, but it took so long that Troy eventually picked me up (bridal style!) and just carried me the rest of the way. Swoon.

Setting me down when we saw the nurse's office, Troy let me lean on him till we went in.

"Nurse Kate?" Troy called. "Are you there?"

Emerging from behind a curtain, the nurse saw my sitting on the chair and then looked at Troy.

"Bolton. Have you injured someone other than yourself this time?" she teased.

"Very funny. Gabriella and I fell, and she seems to have twisted her ankle. I think she probably just needs to ice it, but you're the nurse."

"Ok let's see." Nurse Kate turned to face me, her grey eyes shrewd as she stared at my ankle. "Put your foot up here on this stool please, Gabby. Is it alright if I call you Gabby? I'm gonna call you Gabby." She rolled up my jeans – thank god I shaved today – and started assessing the damage. When she hit a particularly sore spot, I winced and jerked my foot.

"Okay." She stood up from her kneeling position. "It's not sprained. Just a little tender from the fall. I'm gonna give you some aspiring and bandage that up. Keep the bandage on for the next couple of days and ice it when you get home, ok?"

"Ok. Thanks Nurse Kate." I was quiet as she finished the rest of her work, and then when she was done, I stood up and smiled politely. It was only then I realized that Troy was still there; was he just trying to avoid homeroom? Or did he actually care? At this point, I really didn't know anything, so I decided to just go with the flow. He followed me out into the now completely empty halls. I started to try and walk at his pace, but it was too painful so I started to trail behind him; he slowed down and put my arm on his shoulder. All of this and not a single word said between us. It should have been awkward, but it wasn't.

"There's only like, 10 minutes of homeroom left before we all have to go to class. If you want you can just go hang out in an empty room." Troy moved away from me and turned without a backwards glance. So much for thinking that I might have this opportunity to talk to him. I made my way to an empty room and thought of what I could do, before I gave up and just decided to let whatever happens happen. The shrill sound of the bell brought me back to the present and I got up, making my way to Honors English.

This was my favorite class. My teacher, Mr. Canella, was a middle-aged man who got up every morning, enthusiastic to teach us some Shakespeare, but was also cool enough to talk to afterwards. It was especially great, because he absolutely refused to teach us Romeo and Juliet, unlike hopeless romantic Miss Devine. Walking into class, I slowly made my way to the seat that Taylor had saved me, the farthest seat from Troy in the whole room.

"What happened to you? You were missing in homeroom today, we were worried!" I smiled at that. Taylor was like a mother stuck in a teenager's body.

"I fell and hurt my ankle, so I was in the nurse's office all morning." I didn't want to divulge everything about Troy yet to her; one, because I wasn't sure what she thought of him and I'd rather not hear her warning me about his womanizing ways. Two, because I wanted something to tell the girls about at the sleepover, and at least I'd get three opinions if I told them all then.

Taylor nodded at me and looked like she was about to talk, but Mr. Canella walked in.

"Alright, who spent all of last night playing drunk Pictionary and is walking into here with a massive hangover?" he joked, rubbing at his bald head. "Just me? Okay then. Well, I guess we should get started." He walked around the class, handing out little paper booklets. _Final Grade Assignment_ was written in bold on the first page.

"What does Macbeth mean to you? If you want to tell me it means nothing, you can. You want to tell me that you relate to the idea of power and wanting to kill? Go ahead. I'll think you're a psychopath, but I'll grade you fairly nonetheless. The point of this assignment is that you will be exploring and analyzing Macbeth in depth. The context of the play, the characters and their motives, and the imagery should all be considered when you do this assignment." Mr. Canella looked at us all. "Some have said that this is a tasking assignment to put on high school students, but I say differently. If you guys weren't good at English, you wouldn't be sitting here in Honors with me telling me you can't wait to start this assignment!" he joked.

Honestly, it was a daunting task. Going through all of Macbeth by December 12th? That was just less than 2 months, and with everything that had been asked of us for this assignment in terms of research, it just didn't seem like any of us would do well. Then, Mr. Canella spoke again.

"Some of you are probably flipping through that booklet and thinking, there's no way in hell we have time to do this. I've taken that into consideration. Which is why, 10 minutes before the lesson ends, half of the class will write their names on a piece of paper and place it into a hat, and the other half will pick a name out of said hat. These people will be your research partners, so I advise you to get to know them. To get a good grade on this assignment is going to be hard, and the best way to ensure you have a good angle to write from is to have done some good research. You will be working with this partner, discussing and formulating ideas with them, researching with them. At the end of the day though, I'd like to remind you that whilst you will be working closely with them, the work must be your own. That 2000 word paper you hand in to me on December 12th should be part self-reflection, part literary analysis, and 100% your own." He was stern; clearly this was something he felt strongly about.

"Now, having said that, let's get back to our syllabus. Everybody get your textbooks out." We all obeyed, but it was pretty clear everyone was preoccupied with wondering who would be partnered with whom. True to his word, 10 minutes before class ended, Mr. Canella asked the other half of the room to write their names into his little hat, whilst I doodled on my binder and waited till they asked me to pick a name out.

"Gabriella," Mr. Canella stood by my desk. "Pick a name, young miss." I stuck my hand into the hat, pulled it out, and opened up the folded piece of paper. _No way_. Fuck, I got Troy.

"Who did you get? Read the name aloud please, so everyone can hear."

"Troy Bolton." I heard a quiet murmur go through the class, but I didn't dare look up. Instead I just looked at Troy's messy scrawl on the piece of paper and started to pack up my stuff. Everyone was starting to go sit with his or her partners (Taylor had gotten Kelsi, so lucky!) but I hung back. Was Troy mad that I was his partner? I still hadn't even looked at him, we hadn't exactly been buddy buddy recently – not that we ever were, but even less so now.

"Gabriella." I turned around, facing Troy square on. "Where should we meet for the assignment?" he was all business; clearly he didn't want to talk.

"Um, we can do it after school in the library?" Troy shook his head.

"I have basketball practice almost every day after school. What about free period?" he said.

"Uh sure, my free is on Wednesday, 5th period. What about you?"

"Fucking hell, mine is on Thursday, 3rd period." I have gym then, so I can't go to his.

"We can do it at our houses." I suggested in a small voice, though the thought of Troy at my house was a little daunting.

"I guess that's the best option." He said, annoyed. God, I get that he clearly no longer wants to be with me or whatever, but there is so no need for him to be an asshole 24/7. "My house, today at like 5 alright?"

I shook my head. "Can we start tomorrow? My dad comes back today and he wants to take me out."

"Just the two of you?" I froze. He did _not_ just seriously ask that. I wasn't even sad, I was mad; he knew about my mom, how dare he?

He paled at my reaction, I think realizing his own words. "Shit, Brie, that's not what I meant. I swear; I just meant like, no family friends or something joining you. I'm sorry." He called me Brie. That's proof that he still cares, right? Otherwise he'd still be calling me Gabriella. God, this is all so fucking confusing.

"Can we just do it tomorrow?"

"Yeah of course. Anything. Tomorrow is Thursday, I don't have practice on that day, so we can go right after school and work for a couple of hours. That good?" I said yes, then we both went our separate ways.

As I walked to the library, ready to sit quietly and read, I realized something. I had been thinking of ways to get Troy alone to talk to him all morning, and now I finally had it.

This was my in.


	7. Chapter 7

I'd decided I didn't need an in. Despite Chad's advice, I figured that Troy should be the one to come to me; I wasn't going to force him to talk to me or be nice to me if he didn't want to, so I resolved to just let the chips fall where they may.

The rest of that day was really a blur; I was on the phone making sure the house was ready for when dad got home. I rushed back home, changing quickly into some tatty old clothes and thoroughly cleaning the house; I had about 25 minutes to spare before dad got home, so I took a quick shower and dressed into a comfy green sundress before going to the living room to wait.  
I was playing candy crush – I'm an expert, level 467 so far – when the front door opened. A rush of excitement flowed through me as I ran to my dad, who was leaning his suitcase against the front door when I turned the corner.

"Papa!" he turned, a broad smile on his face as he opened his arms wide, ready to pick me up and swing me around like he always does.

"Gabby!" he hugged me tight to him. "Oh honey, I've missed you so much." He set me down and we stared at each other, assessing each other's appearance. To me, he looked more haggard – as if he hadn't had a good night's sleep in a while.

"You look tired papa." I said gently. I didn't want to be critical, but I couldn't help but worry. His normally tan skin looked paler than usual, and he had lost weight. His once muscular and lean body now just looked frail.

"You look radiant, sweetheart." He deflected my question, and I rose to the bait. I didn't want to ruin the time we had together. Even though he'd said he asked for those weeks working in Albuquerque, I couldn't always believe that.

"Gracias, papi. I'm trying to be better." He smiled at that. When I was little, I was a people-pleaser (I still am, a little) and whenever my parents asked me why I was doing something, I would always say I'm trying to be better for whoever needed me to be. But this time, I was just trying to be better for me.

"Ok honey, why don't you let me shower up and unpack, then we can go to dinner? I made reservations for 7:45, so we still have a little time." He was already pulling at his tie and heading towards the stairs. I trudged behind him, ready to coop myself up in my room and watch Netflix till dad called me down to leave.  
Dinner was nice. I forgot how much fun it was to hang out with my dad; we kept the conversation light and happy. It was great, up until the drive home, when my dad broke the news.

" _Bebe_ , I have to tell you something," he was still looking straight ahead, but the tone of his voice made me concentrate. Rubbing a tired hand across his face, he glanced at me. "I have to go back to New York tomorrow. There's a client who has insisted I be there to oversee and consult on their audits. I'm so sorry."  
I was quiet; I knew he wouldn't keep his word on the whole 'I'll be here for 2 weeks thing' but this was something else. He hasn't even been here a day! I calmed myself. _It's not you, Gabriella, this is the way he has always been. Just accept it."  
_ "Ok." I let out a breath. "At least we had tonight to hang out papi." At this, he relaxed, his shoulders sagging in relief that I wasn't angry. He grinned at me.

"Had? The night's still young! Let's watch a movie and make cookies. I'll even let you lick the bowl."

"But daddy, I can't stay up too late, I have school tomorrow and if I sleep after midnight I'll probably never wake up in time for homeroom."

"Skip the morning and go in at lunch." He said simply. "I'll write a note for you."  
Ugh, yes. This means I get to miss gym, homeroom, and calculus. Sounds great. I beamed at him, and settled back into my seat.  
When we got home, it was a great time. We made 3 batches of ooey-gooey chocolate chip cookies and watched Friends reruns as we waited for them to cook. Then, I helped my dad pack and we cuddled together and talked about random things, nothing too heavy. At the end of the night, he handed me the note I needed for school and kissed my forehead. He even tucked me in. I'm sad he's leaving again, but what can I do? He's the adult, I'm the child. End of discussion.

I woke up refreshed and got ready for school at a leisurely pace, knowing I had time to get there. A lavender tank top and a denim skirt with my white sandals took care of my outfit, and before I knew it I was at school, handing in my note to the receptionist and going to grab some lunch.  
When I got to the cafeteria, I headed straight for the soup line. It was a little cold today and I felt like having something to warm me up at the library. Plus, the soup was probably the most decent food at East High's less than luxurious cafeteria.

"Hey Gabs." I turned, grinning at Chad Danforth decked out in his practice gear. Red and white everything.

"Hi Chad." I greeted him. "Why are you getting soup?" I always thought it was weird when guys got soup, I don't know why.

"Maybe I feel like tomato soup." I just stared at him, and he chuckled. "Or maybe, Coach isn't let me have real food or I'll puke during practice." He pouted.

"Why don't you just eat afterwards? Isn't practice over in like an hour?"

"Because Chad is a fatass and can't not eat for longer than an hour," a voice behind me replied for him. Troy.

"Hey dude, don't knock my stomach. It needs to be fed at all times to keep it happy. We have a healthy relationship." Chad joked. Troy and I both laughed at that before he jumped the queue and joined us. A freshman behind him started to protest, but Troy turned and glared at him, and he knew better than to contest an upperclassman  
How do I act around Troy? Do I start the conversation? I just don't know. I just turned back around, leaving Chad and Troy to talk. Furious whispers flew around the air behind me, and I strained to catch snippets of it.

"Why are you even talking to her?" Troy hissed under his breath. Chad whispered something back that I couldn't hear. More whispers, then "Well could you just leave it? I'll tell Gabriella if I want to." At that, I turned to face him. No more secrets.

"Tell me what?" Troy looked up, startled. "You suck at whispering. Chad is better." I said, no change of tone in my voice. "Now, tell me what?" I fixed a determined stare at him and, to his credit, he stared right back. Blue eyes pitted against brown ones.

Finally, he gave in. "Nothing, just that I… I wanted to apologise for the way I acted about your ankle yesterday. I should have been nicer." That's it? I stared at him suspiciously, but decided to let it go for now.

"It's fine. You haven't exactly been anything more than an asshole for the past week, so yesterday was no different." His eyes flashed at my words, and he looked like he was about to retort when Chad put a hand on his shoulder.

"Hoops, we gotta get to practice. No need for soup. Let's go." Goddammit, Danforth! Let him say what he needed to say!

"You're still coming to mine right? For the English project, I mean." Troy asked me, and I nodded. He nodded back to me and started walking backwards, making lowerclassmen move out of his way. "Catch you later, Brie." He called, and then winked at me. He actually _winked_ at me. Well. Tonight should be interesting.

The day kind of went by in a blur, and before I knew it, I was walking to Troy's house, my backpack full with books I'd gotten from the library and 2 dozen chocolate chip cookies in my arms for Mrs. Bolton. I might not like Troy, but his mom was a different matter. She was so cool, and so motherly; I loved her. Taking a deep breath, I knocked on the door and in a matter of seconds, Coach Bolton had pulled it open.  
"Gabriella. Nice to see you. What can I do for you today?" he asked, looking pretty distinguished in a suit and tie.

"Oh, uh, sorry Coach Bolton. I'm actually here for a research project for English. Troy and I are partners." I explained quickly.

"He's showering right now, but why don't you come in and get comfortable. Also, what are those?" I figured he'd zeroed in on the baked goods in my arms. He'd been staring at them like a vulture looks at its prey.

"Oh, I baked these last night, and thought I'd bring them to here for your family to enjoy." I smiled at him shyly. He made me feel comfortable around him, but I was still intimidated. I didn't want to seem like I was kissing his ass.

"God, you're an angel." I blushed. "Luce, come in here right now!" he yelled, and suddenly Lucille was there, dressed in a long powder blue dress that complimented her figure but wasn't too revealing. She looked stunning.

"Gabriella!" she enveloped me in a hug. "Hi honey! I keep asking Troy when you're coming round next, we loved having you here the last time." She said, turning to look for something. "Jack, can you grab my clutch? It's upstairs." She said, before turning back to me. "It's such a shame you came today when we couldn't be here to enjoy your company. Troy told me yesterday, but we're invited to a wedding, so I'm afraid we have to go. Lexie's at one of her friend's houses for the weekend too, so it's just you and Troy tonight." She winked at me slyly, and instantly I felt my cheeks heat up. They were bright red, a hundred percent. So embarrassing.

"Oh n-n-no." I stuttered, "We're just gonna be doing research. For English. Macbeth." Shut up, Gabriella. Stop talking; you're making it worse. Lucy wagged her finger playfully and told me to behave, before she and Jack bid their goodbyes and left.  
Alone in Troy's living room, I perused the shelves, looking at the various pictures of the Boltons. They looked super happy in all of them. School pictures of Troy and Lexie took up a whole mantel top, and another was covered in pictures of them dressed up for Halloween. I stared at them, laughing at a particularly funny one in which Troy was supposed to be Courage the Cowardly Dog, covered in baby pink paint. Lexie was Tinkerbell, all blonde and blue-eyed little girl perfection, and she was laughing at Troy in the picture too.  
"It's a tradition." A voice said behind me. "Every year, Lex and I dress up in costumes and my parents take a picture and hang it up here." He was quiet, as if he was nervous about something.

I held up my cookies awkwardly. "I, um, brought cookies. For your parents too, but also so we can snack on them. I figured that we need a treat after we research Macbeth." I could tell I was rambling, because a smirk was growing on Troy's face. He grabbed them and headed towards the kitchen. I followed like a lost puppy.

"Mom made a chicken and chorizo paella for dinner, so let me know when you're hungry and we can eat." God, I love Lucy. It's like she picked out all my favourite foods from my mind. With that, we headed back to the dining room and got down to business. It took a while to organise ourselves, but we eventually figured out a system to the research that we figured would take us about a month, leaving us a whole month to write the papers. The room was quiet except for the clicking and clacking of our fingertips against the keyboard, and the scrapes of pen against paper. There was the occasional question, but other than that, we were super productive and had done a solid 2 hours of research before Troy's stomach rumbled loudly. Twice. He looked down, bashful, cheeks red.

"I swear that was not a fart, it was my stomach." He said, so red in the face he looked like he was about to pop. "Can we eat now?" he started to make his way to the kitchen, and again, I followed.

"Yeah sure." I said. "And I knew it wasn't a fart. I would have smelled it."

"Now Brie, it could have been one of those farts that don't really smell. Like, when I fart loudly, it doesn't really smell. Only when it's those silent ones." I laughed loudly and with abandon.

"SBD's" I said. He looked at me, waiting for an explanation. "Silent but deadly's. That's what my mom used to tell me when she'd complain about my dad farting." I said, still laughing. At the mention of my mom though, Troy's face fell, and a flash of pity ran across his face. He composed himself, but not before I had seen everything.  
"Don't." I snapped.

"Don't what?"

"Don't give me that look of pity. My mom's dead, but I don't wanna walk around being known as the girl with the dead mom. I don't wanna get that look you just gave me from other people. So just don't."

"I'm sorry." He looked down. "I just don't know how you want me to act around you when you mention her." I felt the anger build up at his words, and I exploded.

"I want you to act like you did last week. You held my hand, but you didn't push me to talk, and you just let it be. I want you to act like you actually give a shit, rather than being so fucking rude to me all the time for reasons that no one but you really knows. I want you to act like last week in your backyard was real, that when you told me you liked me, you weren't lying." I was yelling at this point, and I had more to say, but I was cut off when Troy swooped down and kissed me.

Woah. He pushed against me and flicked his tongue across my lips, before he plundered my mouth. I moaned, and he grunted in response and lifted me onto the counter, spreading my legs open so he could step between them. His hands were everywhere. One was holding my face, then the back of my neck, then my hair. The other was creeping up my leg where my skirt had ridden up. his touch against my sensitive skin there felt weird but right. I moaned again, encouraging Troy to keep inching his way up my thigh. I kissed him harder, trying to suppress the noises I was making, to no avail.

This time, when I kissed him, I tried to experiment and flicked my tongue against his. He did it back to me. The sensations flowing through me were incredible. I did it again, pushing against him harder this time, and he groaned in response, a sound that turned me on more than I'd like to admit. What is it about this boy?

It went on like this for a while, him expertly exploring my body and my mouth, and me tentatively exploring his. Eventually, when we couldn't take it anymore, we both pulled back, panting heavily. I touched my swollen lips, not really believing that after the way Troy had been acting, that any sort of friendly (or more than friendly, really) interactions between us had occurred.

"Can we sit down for dinner?" Troy asked quietly, still breathing a little heavily. "I kind of wanna clear something up." At this, my face fell. Last time he had to clear something up, he told me that being with me wouldn't be right. That I wasn't right for him. He realized what he'd said, and he rushed to explain more.

"Not like that. I mean, I just wanna explain why I've been acting the way I've been acting. It's only fair to you, and hopefully we can be on the same page afterwards."

I nodded, and we both spooned portions of paella onto our plates before we headed back to the dining room table where we'd been working. Setting our books aside, we started to eat. I didn't want to push Troy, so I didn't say anything; halfway through our meal, he put his fork down and looked up at me, catching my gaze.

"So, the thing is," he started, looking regretful "I'm a really big fucking idiot."


	8. Chapter 8

_"So the thing is," he started, "I'm a really big fucking idiot."_

I wanted to say something. I really did. But this was Troy's turn to talk, and I needed to hear what he had to say. All I did to indicate that I was really listening is push away my food – reluctantly – and face Troy fully; then, I waited.

He was fidgeting, straightening out his place mat and whatnot. Finally, he looked back up.

"I wasn't lying last week in the backyard, when I told you I liked you. I did – do, like you." I sucked in a sharp breath, but stayed silent. "When I first met you, all I could think about was how beautiful you are, and how you seemed different to other girls at East. Then, after talking to you last week, hearing you tell my parents all your goals and seeing them get along so well with you, all I can think about is how incredible you are. So, so incredible." His tone was serious, his face straight. His blue eyes, which usually gave away what he was feeling, gave nothing away tonight.

"Then I found out about your mom. I didn't know what to say to you; I didn't know anyone who'd gone through a close death in their family, but I knew I wanted to be there for you. That night, when you told me that you liked me back, and we kissed, it was amazing. More than amazing. It was like everything just… made sense." He was struggling for the right words, but so far, he'd been doing great. Inside me, my heart was soaring.

"I dropped you home, and everything was great. My mom and dad kept saying how much they liked you, which never happens. I don't really bring girls back a lot – you know my past," he glanced at me awkwardly. The image of him and Nikki against the locker was still fresh in my mind. "But," he continued, "they were like, freaking obsessed with you. My mom asks everyday when you're gonna come back for god's sake. I was glad they liked you, because I wanted to make it official with you and ask you to be my girlfriend." I knew he was gauging my reaction, but I didn't want to give anything away, despite being overwhelmed by this new information.

"It was a comment that Lexie said in passing that made me rethink everything. We were all sat together and my mom was gushing about you, and Lexie just goes 'it's like you picked her out of a catalogue, she's so perfect. She's definitely way too good for you.'" His tone was bitter as he relived that comment in his mind. I didn't understand.

"I'm not too good for you. Are you kidding? I'm so normal." I said instinctively. He shook his head.

"You really are too good. You're smart, funny, and beautiful. Anyway, it was that comment that really fucked with me. I lay in bed all night thinking about how you were way too good for me, about how you deserve better than some guy who has a track record of being an asshole to girls. But I knew that if I said that to you, you wouldn't back off. So I said the things I said and did the things I did this past week because I figured that if you hated me, then it would be easier for you." His voice was angry by the end of his little speech, tinged with shame and regret. He didn't prod me to say anything, for which I was grateful. I needed a second to think through everything, but at the end of it I was still as confused as ever. And I wanted to cry. And scream. And just… everything.

"You really are an idiot." I said finally. He looked up at me, relieved I think, that I wasn't going to yell or do something insane.  
"I'm surprised you didn't put two and two together. What did I do that convinced you to agree with what I was doing?"  
I shifted awkwardly in my seat. "I thought that maybe after you'd found out about my mom, you figured I was damaged goods, and that you deserved better. You do deserve better. Then when you said I wasn't right for you, it sort of, I don't know, cemented it." He put a hand on mine, and with his other lifted my chin so I met his gaze.  
"Listen to me. You are _not_ damaged goods okay? You're perfect. Your mom dying does not make you damaged or broken. You're goddamn perfect do you understand?"

I'd never heard him so vehement about something before. I nodded, and he pulled me closer to him.

"Do you think you can forgive me?" He was so nervous, I almost wanted to laugh. But I knew this was serious. Could I forgive him? On one hand, I'll never forget how he treated me this past week; it was the worst I think anyone had ever acted towards me, except my mom on some of her bad days. He made me feel like shit, set me backwards in therapy, and had me feeling depressed more than I had been recently. But then, he did it all because he thought he was wrong for me. That _I_ was too good. How can I not forgive him when his actions came from a good place, no matter how misguided he was?

"Yeah, I guess I can." I said, and he beamed. "But it might take a while for me to trust you fully again. You really did hurt my feelings by being an asshole, especially seeing you with Nikki." We both winced at the mention of that.

"I'm so sorry, Brie. Really, I am." I nodded, halting his apology.

"Stop apologizing Troy. I already forgave you." I grinned at him, and then my stomach rumbled. At that, Troy burst into unrestrained laughter. I smacked him. "That was not a fart, Troy Bolton, and you know it. Don't even think of making a joke." My blush was uncontrollable, and to get away from the situation I picked up my plate to reheat my food and walked into the kitchen. It had just started rotating in the microwave when I felt a pair of hands on my hips. My heart took flight.  
"I'm sorry." Troy nuzzled my neck affectionately. "I didn't mean to offend you, but it was just funny."  
I turned in his arms, the whirring of the microwave a steady sound behind us. "You're fine. I'm not mad, just embarrassed that my stomach chose to make itself known at that point." I blushed again. What the hell was wrong with me?

He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, and looked down at me. His hands were still on my hips, now rubbing small circles into the skin that made me squirm. "Don't be embarrassed. I did it like half an hour ago, and you didn't finish your food."

The microwave beeped loudly, and I turned away to go grab my food, and then I sat at the island in the middle of the kitchen with Troy next to me. He had taken the liberty of eating the paella straight out of the pot, not even heating it up properly.  
"You're such a guy." I laughed at him as he stared at me, his mouth full to the brim. I tucked a paper napkin onto my lap before I dug back into my food, savouring the spicy, tangy tastes that erupted in my mouth. We finished our food in silence, both of us eating too quickly to talk. Finally, I pushed my plate away and leaned back on the chair; Troy did the same.  
"I think I need to lie down, I'm so full." I groaned.  
"You wanna go to my room? There's a bed you can lay on, and I need to change. I got paella all over my shirt." He stared down guiltily at the white shirt splattered with orange stains. He grabbed my hand and pulled me upright.  
"Give me a minute. I don't feel like walking." I was playing it up, but I really was full and couldn't be bothered to walk all the way up the stairs. What didn't factor into my mind was that Troy would just pick me up and carry me up the stairs, which is exactly what he did.

"Thank you for the ride, cowboy." I giggled as he set me down on the bed.

"My pleasure, ma'am. Always there to help a damsel in distress." He winked and tipped his imaginary cowboy hat before climbing in next to me, wiggling to get comfortable.

"So this is your room." I stated the obvious as I propped myself up on my elbows to look around. It was nice. Normal sized, not too spacious, with white washed walls and basketball posters everywhere. Clothes were strewn on the ground and books were piled up high on his desk. A partially open door looked like it led to the bathroom, and another sliding one seemed to be his closet.

"It's kind of messy." He semi-apologised. I shrugged, not really caring.

"I'm OCD about my room, but I don't care in others. Your room's nice." I told him.

"Is the bed comfy?"

Weird question. "Yeah, I like it. Why?"

"Because we're gonna be spending a lot of time on it and in it." He said, and before I could respond, his mouth was on mine, coaxing my bottom lip gently between his.

I'd never really kissed anyone before. Before Troy, I'd kissed a guy during an awful game of truth or dare when I was in the 7th grade. This wasn't like that at all. This was amazing; all I wanted to do was keep kissing Troy. I actually wanted to go further than that, but I knew I shouldn't, so my hands stayed firmly around his neck while his were on my hips. He rolled us over so that I was lying on top of him, and when we both came up for air briefly, he pulled us upright so that I was straddling him. I was nervous – what if I did something wrong? But the feel of Troy's lips on mine soon made me forget everything. Eventually he began to trail kisses along my jaw before he moved down to my neck, where he kissed everywhere. When he hit a spot right by my ear, I gasped and squirmed; for the first time in my life, I felt myself getting wet. Hearing my gasp, Troy kept sucking on that spot. Oh my god, I was going to have a hickey. Troy Bolton was going to give me a fucking hickey. Is this real life?

I shifted in his lap as he continued his ministrations, which is when I felt _it_. His penis. When he knew I felt it, he froze, and then removed me from his lap. He turned awkwardly, trying to fix his jeans; I rolled my eyes. I'd already seen his boner.

"Troy, it's ok."

"It's not ok! I shouldn't… I don't…" he was spluttering, not having any idea how to approach this situation.

"Really, it's ok. I mean, it's natural, right?" this couldn't be more awkward. Both of us didn't know what to say or do.

"I just don't wanna make you uncomfortable." He finally spoke after a long stretch of silence. "I know you haven't exactly… done that sort of stuff, and I don't wanna rush you into anything."

"How do you know I haven't done stuff like that?" I challenged. "You shouldn't just assume things about me, Troy." He rubbed his neck awkwardly. Why was I even acting out? I'd told him last week when we kissed I'd never done something like this. He was totally justified.

"Oh. Well, I uh… I'm sorry." I sighed.

"No I'm sorry. I snapped for no reason at all. You didn't assume. I guess it's just frustrating that you've done everything and I've done nothing. It's like I have nothing to offer you." I said sadly. He could get sex with any girl he wants; girls who know what they're doing. Why me?

"Brie, I like that you haven't done stuff." I looked up, surprised.

"You do?"

"I do." He confirmed, moving so that he was propped on his elbows facing me. "I like knowing that I'm the only one who's done this stuff to you, and that I can teach you all this stuff. It's gonna be great, I promise."

"What if I'm bad at it?" I was quiet, embarrassed.

He chuckled. "I highly doubt you will be, but we'll take it slow okay? I won't do anything you aren't comfortable with." He leaned over and pressed a chaste kiss to my lips before he pulled me over so I could lay my head in the crook of his neck.

I don't know how long I lay there, my hand pressed to Troy's chest, listening to his steady heartbeat. It soothed me, and eventually I fell into a deep sleep.

"Gabriella… Brie. Wake up." I groaned. "Come on babe, I need to get you home."

"What time is it?" I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes, sitting up slowly.

"It's like 10:30." I realised that Troy had changed his shirt and cleaned the room up a bit; he handed me a glass of water that I took gratefully and chugged before I stood up.

"Whoa." I put my hands up in front of me. Headrush. The world around me was spinning, and I shut my eyes so I could fix it.

Troy held my forearms. "You ok?"

"Yeah, just a headrush, don't worry. I just stood up too fast." I opened my eyes and caught Troy's eye with mine. Shit, his eyes are beautiful. I started leaning in at the same time as Troy, and we met in an explosion of feeling. This kiss was different to the earlier one. That one was all gentle exploring and caresses. This was fire. I felt Troy lift me up and push me against his bedroom door, and I impulsively wrapped my legs around his waist.

"God, you're so fucking beautiful. I can't keep my hands off you." He whispered before attacking my neck again. At this rate, I'm going to be wearing a scarf to school. Troy sucked harshly on my collarbone, making me moan. It was a sound I'd never really heard before, and I felt awkward, but Troy loved it.

"Do it again," he growled. He was spurred on by the sounds I was making, and pretty soon it had been a good 15 minutes of Troy leaving hickeys all over my collarbone and neck. Great. Well, at least my dad isn't here to see this.

"Come on," I breathed. "We should go." He grabbed us a couple of cookies before we left, which I munched on happily as we got into the car.

"Hey!" he exclaimed. "Don't steal all the cookies. Feed me." I broke off a piece of my cookie and leaned over, waving it in front of his mouth. He opened wide and took the cookie, humming gratefully.

"These are so good babe," he enthused. Cute, he called me babe!

"They better be. Me feeding you has left me with chocolate all over my fingers and I don't have a napkin." I complained. Ew.

He parked by my house. "Here, I can clean that up for you," he husked. Wait, what? He took my hand in his and brought it up to his lips, first kissing it, then bring my fingers to suck them clean, one by one. I stopped moving, stopped breathing. How is it that having my fingers sucked was turning me on? This is so embarrassing.

"Do I get to meet your dad this time?" Troy looked at me hopefully.

I shook my head. "He left again for business." I said, trying to sound nonchalant about the fact that my dad is never here. Troy saw right through it.

"Does he do that a lot? Leave you alone?"

"Yeah, but it's not a big deal. It's because he's working all the time. It doesn't really bother me anymore." I tossed a weak smile over my shoulder to Troy before climbing out of his truck.

"Can I come in for a second then?"

"Sure, but what for? It's just a house."

"Just wanna see it. And make sure you're safe inside there." I was about to protest but the fierce look on Troy's face made me stop. I touched his cheek, caressing it lightly, and he leaned into my touch. His blue eyes met mine as I did it, and we stood there for a while, just looking at each other. He laced his hand with mine and brought me closer.

"You worry about me." I whispered.

"I do." He nodded resolutely, and I beamed, unable to suppress my happiness that this amazing guy likes me. That he cares about me. That he _wants_ me. I led him into the house, fumbling briefly for my keys before I unlocked the door and walked in.

Troy looked around, his eyes falling briefly on the abstract painting across from us before scanning the rest of the entrance. He grinned at me.

"You gonna give me a tour?"

"If I have to." I sighed jokingly, pretending that this was a chore, when in fact it was nice to have someone else in the house. I took him through the formal and informal living rooms, formal and informal dining rooms, and then the kitchen. He'd not said that much

"Do you want anything to drink?" I'm nothing if not polite.

"Is that an offer to stay longer?" he asked cheekily. I fisted my hands on my hips and just looked at him. "Hot chocolate, if you've got it." He told me, and I set about making it the old fashioned way, with the pot of milk over the stove and real cocoa.

"You have to be the only person I know who actually makes it that way. I just meant having some packaged hot chocolate. This is so much trouble." He hopped up onto the counter and watched me stir in cocoa into the boiling water.

I stopped stirring for a second so I could go grab the sugar. Opening up the top cupboard, I stood on my toes, flailing my arms to reach the sugar, but before I could get it, a hard body pressed me to the counter and easily grabbed the sugar from up above.

"You could have just asked you know," he teased as I walked back to the pot of milk.

I just ignored him and added the sugar and cocoa to the milk, and giving it one final stir before I took the pot off the heat and poured the mixture into 2 steaming mugs.

Handing one to Troy, I watched as his arms flexed and bulged under his black t-shirt; he's just so fucking sexy. I've never been the kind of girl who was that curious about sex, but everything about Troy's body is made for sex. He's long, hard, and lean; his hands are big and rough enough that you can feel as he touches your body. And from what I could tell earlier, Troy is um… well endowed. Plus he has the face of an angel, just to top it all off. Those eyes…

"What are you thinking about?" Troy pulled me out of my thoughts, staring at me over the rim of his mug, steam whirling around his face.

"Nothing. Just… you." I couldn't tell him the whole truth, that I was thinking about having sex with him. That would be a little weird. I still blushed.

"What about me?" a quick look of worry flashed across his face.

"No nothing like that." I rushed to reassure him. "Just that I can't believe you're sitting here with me… it's sort of surreal. Extraordinary." Just a little white lie.

"Why is it so hard to believe? Because I'm Troy Bolton?" he couldn't keep the bitterness from his voice, probably sick of people who get to know him as Troy the basketball guy.

"No, Troy. I mean partly. It's surreal that someone so high in the school's food chain, let's just say, has taken interest in me. Weird. But it's a lot more than that. It's that you're smart, funny, good-looking, charming. It's just surreal that I would be the one who caught your eye. I'm so normal compared to you."

"Brie, if there's anything you're not, it's normal. You are incredible." My cheeks went red, and silence enveloped the room for a little while, as we finished off our drinks. Troy took mine and put it in the sink, ready to clean it, but I stopped him and told him I'd do it tomorrow with the rest of the dishes.

"I guess I better go soon, leave you to go to bed." Troy said, almost reluctantly.

"Yeah. We'll see each other in homeroom tomorrow."

I walked Troy to the front door, about to open it when he grabbed my hand and pulled me back. One hand trailed down my body to grip my waist, whilst the other gripped my chin. Troy rubbed his nose against mine, and then kissed me lightly. I kissed back eagerly.

"See you tomorrow," he breathed before walking out to his truck.

I couldn't wait.


	9. Chapter 9

I woke up early enough to get in a shower, curl my hair, and do my makeup. I had extra work today, covering up the hickeys Troy had plastered all over my neck. Eventually I just left my hair down and hoped I'd covered it as much as possible. After I'd gotten dressed in faded blue jeans, a black tank, and a red flannel shirt, I made myself a Nutella crepe. No shame about eating all those calories. Folding the crepe in half, I grabbed my backpack and was about to start my walk when I froze at the front door.  
Right in front of me, Troy's white truck was parked, with him leaning casually against it, looking as handsome as ever.

"Thought you'd never come out of there." He called out, blue eyes twinkling with mirth.

"What are you doing here?"

"You didn't really think I'd let you walk to school from now on, did you?" Troy held out his hand, and then tugged me close to him. Before he could kiss me though, he started laughing.

"What?" I tugged at my shirt, fidgeting self-consciously.

"We match." Troy explained, gesturing to his own jeans and flannel combo. At that, I started laughing too.

"Great minds think alike." I breathed, as I pulled his head down to give him a quick hello kiss. He readily returned it, and then pulled back and took my bag from me. Climbing into the car, I got settled and took a bite of my crepe. This day was starting out great. Troy started the car, and we were pulling away from the house when he reached over and tried to grab my food. I held it away from him.

"Get your own!" I exclaimed, "I made this for me. Plus it's not healthy. Shouldn't basketball players eat healthy food?" I was pulling these excuses out of my ass, but I really hate sharing food; I'm not a sharing person, at all.

"Come on Brie, I picked you up!" Troy begged. "Just one bite?" his eyes flicked towards the crepe, the Nutella oozing out of it temptingly. I sighed. How can I resist him, especially when he's being so playful? I held it out to him, and he took a huge bite.

"I'm pretty sure that constitutes about 4 bites, considering you just wolfed down half my crepe. Anyway," I shifted in my seat, crossing a leg underneath me. "Why didn't you text or something to tell me you were coming? I could have made you one of these and then we wouldn't have to share."

"Great idea, except I don't have your number and you don't have mine." Troy said simply. Oh. Well that makes a lot more sense. I reached for his phone, ready to type my number in, but there was a damn password.

"Type in your password when you can, and I'll put my number in." I told him, setting it back where it was before.

"1402," he told me "Go ahead and open it."

"You actually told me your password?" I was surprised. Usually people are super touchy about passwords. My own father won't even tell me his. I barely ever tell people mine - not that anyone ever really asks, but still. I wouldn't if they did, probably.

"I don't really care if you know," he said. "I have nothing to hide, and I barely ever use my phone for anything interesting."

I unlocked the phone and quickly typed my number in, saving it under Brie. Before I could hand it back though, Troy put his hand up. "Uh uh uh," he said. "You have to take a selfie now."

"What? No way." I am not taking a selfie. I will not take a selfie. Absolutely not. He laughed as he pulled into the parking lot and took the phone. I hid my face behind my hands, just in case.

"Come on," he coaxed, and I shook my head.

"I don't like pictures." I insisted. He shifted in his seat until he was closer to me.

"Can we at least take one together? Come on, it's important!" he pleaded. His breath fanned over my face, minty and fresh. He was too close for me to deny him, and I ended up acquiescing.

"Fine. Just one. And you're not allowed to put it anywhere." I warned. I didn't want his many admirers to hate me because I was in a photo with him. Turning so I faced the camera, I took a deep breath, leaning slightly into Troy as I smiled. He put his arm around me before snapping the picture, and then pulled the selfie up so we could see it. Admittedly, it was pretty cute. We looked like a couple to be honest, with our heads so close together and our wide smiles. I almost regretted saying he couldn't put it anywhere, it was that adorable.

"Do you like it?" he asked me.

"Yeah, I do. Do you?" God, I hope he liked it.

"I love it. I hate you for saying it goes nowhere, it would have been a great instagram to have." I knew he was secretly trying to get me to say he could put it up, but I wasn't going to. No way would I survive the wrath of the girls of East High if he put it up.

"I'm sure it would have," I said wryly. I started to gather my things, ready to go in to school.

"Brie, can I see you at lunch?" Troy's voice was quiet, and if I hadn't been so close to him, I doubt I would have heard.

"I… I'd love to, but I just don't think that me sitting at your table or something would be a good idea. God knows that you hanging out with me will give all those girls enough reason to hate me." I voiced my opinion, a little scared that he'd laugh at me, but to my surprise, he shook his head.

"If anyone ever bothers you, they have me to answer to. I won't let them," he said firmly, a protective glint in his eye. Before I could answer, he continued. "That's not what I meant about today, though. I actually meant just us. If you want to. I know this spot that no one really knows about." He was nervous, as he rubbed his neck awkwardly.

"That sounds nice. Do I need to bring anything?" I asked, a soft smile on my face at this shy Troy, so different to the outgoing, confident basketball guy everyone was used to.

"Just yourself. I'll text you where to go now that I have your number." He winked at me as he got out of the car. He held out his hand to walk me in, but I hesitated. I didn't know how we would fare at school together. Plus, I wanted us to be together secretly, just for a little longer. Troy saw my face and dropped his hand, giving me a confused look.

"I just don't want people to talk. It wouldn't bode well for me." I pulled at my tank top awkwardly.

"I told you, anyone who has a problem with us will have to go through me. They can all fuck off." He was insistent on this. Laughing, I took his hand.

"Fine." I said. "Let's go." My hand was clammy in his, my grip tight. Troy squeezed my hand affectionately, reassuringly. He swung our hands together and walked confidently through the school doors, me by his side, head slightly down. All around, eyes swiveled to us, particularly to our hands laced together. I blushed and prayed I wouldn't trip and give everyone a reason to stare at me further.

"Hoops!" Chad called to our right. Troy nodded to him, smiling. I did too, out of instinct. Chad was impossible not to smile at. "And Gabs!" he exclaimed happily, slinging a quick arm around me and squeezing me. I laughed a little, still nervous about attention being brought to me in the hallway. I looked up to see Nikki looking at me through narrowed eyes, glaring as if I'd just stolen her prized possession. Which, in a way, I guess I had. At this, I decided it would be best if I just went to my locker and homeroom. Wrenching my hand out of Troy's strong grasp, I gestured to the left.

"Um, I'm gonna go." I said awkwardly. "Have to get my stuff from my locker."

"Want me to come with you?" Troy offered, but I quickly shook my head.

"It's ok, I'll just see you in homeroom, Troy." I shot him a halfhearted smile before turning. "Bye Chad." I called over my shoulder.

I was actually more anxious as I walked on my own, fearing the wrath of pretty much every cool girl in school. Keeping my head down and walking as quickly as possible, I got to my locker and quickly put my stuff away, gathering the books I needed. I was about to walk away when Nikki and her lookalike minion, Shanna, cornered me against the lockers.

"You." She sneered. I didn't say anything, just waited for whatever she was about to say so I could leave. "You think you can come in here, trying to act all mysterious, and steal Troy Bolton from us? Well let me tell you something," she stepped closer to me, really backing me up against the locker. I could feel the lock digging into my back. "You are not one of us. You will never be one of us. You might as well give up any idea of being Troy's, because if you don't," she looked down at me, an ugly sneer twisting her pretty face, "I'll make your life a living hell. You will hate every minute of it." And with that she shoved me roughly into the locker, disgust written on her features. Shanna didn't really do much, just stood there beside Nikki and watched. They walked away soon after that to their own homeroom, and I rubbed my sore shoulder, knowing Nikki had left a bruise there. At least the flannel covered it. I didn't want Troy to see, or anyone for that matter.

I was late getting to homeroom, earning myself a detention from Ms. Darbus. Chad gave me a sympathetic look as I passed him to get to my own seat, and Taylor gawked, probably in shock that I'd actually managed to get myself on Ms. Darbus's bad side.

"Where were you?" Troy whispered as I sat down in my usual seat. "I left you like 10 minutes ago, and I know for a fact that your locker isn't that far away."

"I… I…" Quick, dammit, think of an excuse Gabriella! "I had to go to the bathroom." I winced as I lied. I hate lying to people, but I didn't want Troy to know about Nikki, if anything because I was scared he might start to agree with her. He stared at me, skeptic of my excuse, but eventually bought my lie and sat back in his seat. I breathed a sigh of relief and doodled quietly on my notebook, drawing my love ring onto a piece of paper until the bell rang, then I booked it to my next class, not giving Troy a chance to catch up to me.

During my government class, I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket, and I looked down to see an unknown number.

 _'Go to bio lab 106. By the projector, there's a door that leads to a staircase. Go up them, and I'll be at the top. See you at lunch babe. – Troy'._ I quickly saved him as a contact on my phone, then went back to taking notes.

At lunch, I did as told and went to bio lab 106. Making my way up the stairs that Troy told me about, I wondered what was in store for me. When I got to the top, all I saw was flowers upon flowers. All different kinds, all beautiful. It didn't surprise me that of all people, Troy would be the one to know about this place. Speaking of, I saw him, leaning against the railing. He was smirking, and I looked at him quizzically, waiting for an explanation.

"You just looked really good in that shirt climbing the stairs." _Fuck_. I didn't wear a very supportive bra today. It was literally a scrap of black lace, and gave me more cleavage than I actually had. Goddammit. I blushed red and adjusted my tank top, crossing my arms tightly over my boobs. Troy laughed harder, throwing his head back. "You're not helping yourself there," he said, his shoulders shook as bouts of laughter rocked his body.

"You're a pervert." I rolled my eyes at him as he sat down and immediately took my hand.

"You love it." He teased, a playful grin on his face. "You look pretty though." He said, as he moved to put his arm around me. His hand lay directly on my bruise from this morning, making me wince a little, but I covered it up and nudged him playfully. The bruise continued to throb.

"You look pretty too." He tried to stifle his laugh at my ridiculous compliment, but failed. "Stop it. I don't know why I came up here if you're just going to laugh at me!" I wasn't actually angry, not when Troy was in such a good mood. I've always been one of those people whose mood was affected by those around me. If Troy was this happy, I was happy too.

"You came up here because I have an important question." He gazed at me, eyes a soft and comforting blue. I stopped breathing.

"What is it?" I gulped nervously.

"I made a mess of things these past couple of weeks." Troy started. "But I wanna do things right this time. I have never ever felt about someone the way I feel about you Brie. I want to do everything with you, and make you happy. And most of all, I really want you to be my girlfriend." Oh my god. I waited for him to go on, to actually ask me the question I was dying to hear. "Gabriella Montez, would you be my girlfriend?"

I knew that I should do something girly and start crying from happiness or squealing or whatever, but inside, all I could think of was: holy shit, Troy wants me. Here is this great guy who could have any girl (and even some guys) he wants, but he's picking me. He chooses me. He wants me. Eek. I realize that I haven't spoken yet and it's been a couple of minutes since he asked.

"I…" I want to say something cute, maybe something profound. "Yes." So profound. One word. I'm so lame. But also so happy when I see Troy's face light up and realize that we are now together. I have a boyfriend. I have someone to call in the middle of the night when I can't sleep, or when I'm bored, or when I need someone to be there for me. I have Troy.

He hugs me tight, pulling me right into his lap. "I'm so glad you said yes," his breath is hot against my ear, and I can't see his face but I know he's grinning. He pulls me against him tighter, and this time I wince more obviously, the bruise really throbbing now. Troy freezes, pulling me back to see my face; I try not to show anything, but he knows.

"Are you ok?" he's all wide-eyed concern, checking me to see if I'm hurt. I nod, not wanting him to get mad or worry.

"I'm fine, really. My shoulder is just a little sore." I rub it for good measure, hoping that it will get him to let it go and think I'd just banged it somewhere. He falls for it, mostly, but I don't anticipate him trying to see my shoulder.

"Poor Brie. Let me see the shoulder, I can kiss it better." He says playfully, reaching for me again.

"No!" I lean away from him hastily, enough that it causes suspicion. "I mean, I just, it's ok. You don't have to."

"Why don't you want me to see your shoulder? Come here right now." He demanded, a steely glint in his eye that dared me to argue with him. Meekly, I inched closer, preparing myself for an onslaught of questions and maybe even a fight. Troy's hand reaches towards my flannel and pulls it down, leaving just the thin strap of my tank top showing and revealing an already darkening bruise, maybe the size of a baby's fist

"Gabriella, what the fuck happened?" his eyes flashed in anger. "And don't lie and tell me you fell down last night. I was with you pretty much till you slept." He caught me before I could make an excuse. I looked down, fidgeting with my ring, then sighed in resignation.

"I told you this would happen." I warned him, unable to stop myself from being a smartass. He didn't respond and just waited for me to explain. "When I went to my locker this morning, Nikki sort of… paid me a visit. She wasn't too happy at the idea of you and me together. She didn't like hit me or something, just shoved me into a locker."

"She what!" Troy's fists were curled into balls at his sides; he looked like he was ready to punch someone. "Don't worry, Brie, that'll be the last thing she ever does to you. I'll talk to her today." He looked dangerous, the anger showing on his face and literally radiating off him. I'd be scared to be on the receiving end of that anger, but I also didn't want him to fight my battles.

"No." I shook my head vehemently. "You're not talking to Nikki, Troy. You're not talking to anyone. I don't need you to fight my battles, I'll deal with this on my own."

"But I…" Troy started to protest, but I cut him off.

"I get that you want to protect me." I said, my tone softening when I saw the protectiveness in his eyes. "But, if I need your help, I'll ask for it."

"Promise me." He insisted. "Promise that if it ever gets out of hand, I can step in, with or without your permission. Please, Brie. I don't want anything to happen to you." I knew it was a compromise, to let him step in when he saw fit, but I remember my mom telling me to pick my battles when I get in a relationship.

"Fine," I conceded. "But only if it gets out of hand. Just leave it for now." I warned. Troy nodded, and with that, I deemed this conversation over. I got back to my position on his lap and planted a soft kiss on his cheek before snuggling into his chest.

"I wish we could stay like this for the rest of the day." I said a few minutes later, listening to Troy's steady heartbeat beneath me. He chuckled, and I felt it reverberate in his chest a little.

"We could always ditch the rest of the day." He suggested mischievously.

"I've never ditched at this school. I kind of wanna keep it that way."

" _You've_ ditched school before?" he had an incredulous look on his face.

"Don't look so surprised. I used to ditch when I got bored of classes. But that was like 2 years ago. Then they made me skip a grade and it got harder for me to cut classes."

"Wait," Troy cut me off, "How old are you then?"

Instantly, I blushed. I hated being the youngest one. It sucked. "I'm turning 16 in November." I offered him a shy smile, and he cupped my cheeks.

"Don't be embarrassed that you're younger. It just means that my girlfriend is smart, which is actually cool. And I swear I'm not just saying that." He leaned down to kiss my forehead. "Plus," he continued, "I like that you're younger than I am. Makes me feel like I can protect you even more." I love that he's so protective; it makes me feel so cared for.

"We know nothing about each other, do we?" I realized sadly. I don't know Troy's birthday, what his favourite food is, whether he's a morning person. Nothing. Zip. Nada.

"We have time. Maybe we could do like a night or something where we get to know all those things about each other at one of our houses. And get to do other stuff." He grinned cheekily. So, so hot and irresistible.

"Okay. But not tomorrow, I'm having a sleepover with the girls." He pouted for a second, but then asked if tonight was okay. Wow. He wants to spend his Friday night with me? No parties?

"I don't want you to ditch your plans." I insisted. "Go hang out with your friends."

"Don't be silly. I can meet up with them whenever. I wanna see you." Shit, he's as stubborn as me.

"I just don't want you to feel as if I need you around all the time and I'm stealing you from your friends. I won't be that girlfriend, I swear."

"I know; you won't be and you aren't. I really don't feel like going out tonight; I'd much rather spend it with you and some dinner."

Grinning at each other, we made plans for the evening before the shrill sound of the bell pierced the air. Lunch was over, and I wasn't ditching. Gathering my things, I turned to Troy, who was waiting for me.

"Let's go. At least we both have English together." He held out his hand, and I took it, swinging our entwined hands between us as we walked down the stairs. Before we opened the door to the biolab, Troy snuck in a quick kiss and tickled me mercilessly for a few seconds, and then we were back to the real world.

The rest of the day consisted of dirty stares from the girls, being more noticed by the guys, and teachers piling on mounds of homework as if their lives depended on it. The usual. Detention, as expected, sucked. On the upside though, Sharpay was there rehearsing for _Les Miserables_ and I'd given her a quick breakdown of my and Troy's relationship, during which she squealed every 2 minutes. She made me promise to recount the whole thing tomorrow night, and then told me she wanted to have a chef cook us a gourmet meal for the evening. I laughed, hoping she was joking, before I went to my waxing appointment, then home. There, I cleaned up the house a little, before I eventually just sat down and waited for Troy.

My first Friday night here where I actually have plans. With Troy Bolton, of all people. Troy Bolton, my boyfriend. I couldn't wait.


	10. Chapter 10

"Say the word." Troy teased. I shook my head, my mouth full of chocolate covered pretzels.

"Why don't you like that word! Just say it!" He whined, not letting it go. "Come on, do you really hate the word pussy so much you can't even say it to me?"

I felt my cheeks heat at the word. "Stop," I ordered. "I really hate it. I'd even rather you used the 'c' word than that. Literally, I hate it."

Troy and I had been playing the get to know each other game for about an hour before we got to the topic of sex. We'd covered birthdays, likes and dislikes (he likes carnivals, but hates clowns), and favourite breakfast foods. Now we were talking about sex and things I like and don't like; obviously, it's all hypothetical since I've never actually done it, but I'm humoring Troy. I think he's committing this all to memory so he'll know for future reference, I swear.

"Seriously? You'd rather I said the word cunt because you hate the other word so much?" I cringed a little, but honestly, the c word is not nearly as bad as the p word. I nodded and he stared at me incredulously.

"You have to be the first girl I've ever known who doesn't mind that word. I'll even let you in on a little secret," he came in closer to me. "I prefer it too." I knew he was trying to make me laugh, but when he said 'first girl' all I could think about was: how many girls have there been? Would it be bad of me to ask?

"Can I ask you something, and you won't get mad?" I had to know.

"Okayyy," he looked a little scared, which I guess, wasn't a bad thing really.

"How many girls have you been with?" there. I said it.

Troy flinched at the question. _Shit_. That's not good. It means he's been with a lot. Oh my god, what if he starts comparing me to them, and… and… and just oh my god. Instantly, I almost regretted asking the question.  
"I don't want you to think badly of me," he told me softly, not meeting my eye. Fuck, I wish I hadn't asked, but now I have. I need to know or the curiosity will kill me. I started to panic. God, what's that saying? Curiosity killed the cat. Curiosity was killing me.

"Oh my god, it's a lot isn't it? Just tell me. Tens? Hundreds? Thousands?"

"Tens, tens. I'm in the tens, Brie, god." He was trying to be cool about it, but I knew he was waiting for my reaction.

"Like, in the nineties? Ninety something girls?" I whispered, feeling my own cheeks turn red. How am I ever going to live up to any of his expectations if he's been with that many girls?

"No, Brie. I swear, not that many. It's more like nineteen, maybe in the twenties at most. I don't keep count." He was pleading with me to understand, his eyes wide with apprehension, a deep drowning blue that told me to forget my worrying. But I couldn't.

"How do I even live up to that? They were all probably amazing girls. And I'm just me, Troy. I just don't get it."

"Gabriella, no, I swear to you, it's not like that." Troy begged me to look at him, and I looked up slightly, eyeing him warily. "I've been with a few girls, yeah." That's an understatement, but okay. "But I don't want any of them. If I'm honest, I did it more because I could and because I um, have needs," he coughed awkwardly, "and because that's what everyone expected me to be like. But I like _you_ , Brie. I want you because you're not the same as all the other girls I've been with. You're better. Please," he implored, "You have to believe me when I say that."

I was quiet, but then I sighed in defeat. "I do believe you," I said finally, and relief flashed across his face. "But, I guess this is just my own inferiority complex. I hate that I can't be more for you. More experienced, more normal, I don't know."

"Experience doesn't matter, Brie." Troy said. "You shouldn't feel inferior, those girls should. They gave themselves away so easily, and you're waiting. That makes you so much better." I know he was saying it and he seemed sincere, but I just felt so useless. I wanted to cry, but not in front of Troy. I composed myself, and stood up.

"Do you want to order dinner? Or I can make something?" I changed the subject; I was over this. I didn't want to talk about Troy's sexual exploits and my lack thereof.

Confusion was written on his face, but I ignored it and just walked into the kitchen, and suddenly, he was behind me.

"Brie?" my name came out as a question.

"Hmm?"

"Dirty talk?"

"What?"

"Dirty talk. You hate the p word, but do you hate dirty talk?" he clarified. Oh, I see. He was letting me change the subject back to lighter, jokey tones from before.

"Stop trying to make me blush." I demanded, knowing that a blush was already staining my cheeks. "I don't know, I haven't ever really been in a situation. I mean, I'm not morally against it or anything, but I just don't know."

"If we were ever to… you know… be in a situation where that would come up, would you m-mind it?" he stuttered, I think nervous to bring up sex. I decided to talk to the girls tomorrow about the situation. They've known Troy longer than I have, so they might be able to offer insight.

"I wouldn't mind trying it," I said shyly. I really wouldn't. Who knows? I might even like it. Troy grinned, happy he'd gotten something out of me. He came closer and slung his arm around my waist, pulling me to him so that there was no space between us at all.

"You surprise me at every turn, I swear." He says, eyes shining. "You've ditched school before, you don't mind the c word, and you wouldn't mind dirty talk. It's pretty cool." I couldn't breathe when he was this close; I just wanted to kiss him. I just felt this pull, and at the end of it all, I thought _fuck it_. He's my boyfriend. I can kiss him whenever I want.

Standing on my toes, I wrapped my arms around Troy's neck and pulled him down more to my level, attaching my lips firmly to his. It only took him a second to react before he began to move against me, his thumbs rubbing circles on my hips. His tongue swiped at my upper lip, seeking entrance, and I opened myself to him as I played with the hair at the nape of his neck. I pulled lightly on it, and he gave a slight groan of pleasure. Detaching my lips from his, I decided I wanted to give him a hickey, but I wasn't sure how. I just started to kiss down his jaw, taking in the scent of him. When I got to his neck, I moved my lips around, kissing and sucking lightly till I heard him inhale sharply. I stayed at that spot, and nipped at the skin there, until I was kind of sure it would leave a mark. When I pulled back, I grinned slightly at the red mark on Troy's neck. I didn't have long to admire it before Troy kissed me again, backing me up against the fridge. Then we were making out hardcore: tongues thrashed against each other, bottles from inside the fridge rattled in protest as Troy continued to push me and move me against the refrigerator. My hands were touching him everywhere that was relatively acceptable; I never went south of his navel, still unsure of myself.

Eventually, we both had to move away to catch our breaths, panting hard. Troy bent in half and put his hands on his knees, as if he'd just run a marathon. Shit, that was incredible. I wanted to get right back to making out, but I also wanted to talk. The getting to know each other game was cute.

"So, when's your birthday?" Troy asked. "I know it's in November, but that's it."

"November 24th," I smiled at him. "You?"

"January 16th," he said, an equally large smile on his face. I froze. That would be the six-month anniversary of my mom's death. I plastered a smile on my face and kissed him lightly before turning away to grab some stuff for dinner. I decided to make a pasta bake, since it was easiest and wouldn't take too long. I got the penne from the cupboard and boiled water, then left the penne to cook in it until it was al dente.

"So what's up?" Troy asked. "Do you think I can't tell when you're giving me a fake smile? What's with the freaking out over my birthday?"

"It's nothing, Troy. Just drop it, really. You're looking into this too much." I said, then started to stir the white sauce I'd made earlier and heated.

"It's not nothing. Tell me," he was getting frustrated, I could tell.

"No. Can you grab the bacon from the fridge?" Troy might be stubborn, but I am too. And I'm not going to tell him. He handed me the bacon and I began to chop it up a little and fry it quickly.

Once everything was done, I put all the stove ingredients and some vegetables into a big pan, crumbled a three-cheese mixture on it, then stuck it into the oven on low heat and set the timer.

"We've got like an hour. What do you wanna do?" I asked, and Troy looked up from his phone. I'm sure he was thinking that ditching Friday night plans was a total mistake: I'd gotten mad at him, weirded out on him about his birthday. Totally not what he signed up for.

"Give me an actual tour of your house this time. We didn't see much of it last time," he winked at me, making me blush about our late night shenanigans yesterday. God, time has flown by.

"Okay, fine." I led him down a hallway, and he stopped me. He was looking at the photographs framed up on the walls.

"Is this you?" he pointed at a photo of me sitting on a dock, holding a fishing rod about triple my size. I was a toddler, and I looked like I was going to topple over from holding it. I laughed softly.

"Yeah, it is."

"You're so cute. If we have kids, they have to look like you." He insisted, still staring at the photo. Woah, kids? I didn't realize guys even thought about that sort of stuff. Does this mean he really is serious?

"And this is your mom?" he pulled me out of my reverie. He pointed to a picture of her and me, faces pressed together and laughing at the camera. It was taken last year in Boston, when she insisted on showing me Harvard, where she met my dad. I nodded quietly, my finger tracing the outline of her cheek in the photo, lost in the memory of her laughter. It was like looking at a different mother from the one I knew at the end. One who never screamed at me, or slapped me during one of her episodes, or would cry all the time. This was my real mom.

"She was beautiful." I said quietly, looking at her clear skin, only a few worry lines around her eyes betraying her age. Her hair was always styled beautifully, her makeup perfect.

"Tell me about her." Troy asked. I looked up to see sincerity in his eyes.

I took a deep breath, thinking. "She was smart. A lot of people thought she was a gold digger when she married my dad, but they didn't realize she went to Harvard for nutrition and was hugely successful before she decided to stop working. She was obsessed with elephants; like, weirdly obsessed. She took us to Thailand for a family vacation once just so she could ride one. She thought they were wise and peaceful and she said in another life, she'd want to be one. I guess now, she can be." I remember her happiness when we went to Thailand. That's how I wanted to remember her.

"I wish I could have met her." Troy told me, a sad smile on his face. I smiled back, not wanting to tell him that the mother I had just described hadn't been like that for years. That the mama before she died was moody, and would be happy one day, then awful to me the next. That I'm glad he didn't meet that version of her. Instead, I just nodded.

"I wish you had too." Not a complete lie. I do wish he'd met my mom before she became someone I didn't know.

After a while of Troy looking around the bottom floor of my house (no matter how much he begged, my room was off limits; I'd forgotten to put away all my pill bottles and I didn't want him to know), we opted to watch TV.

"Desperate housewives? They're playing reruns, we can just do that until dinner is done." Troy suggested as I stopped at the channel.

"I've never watched it but sure."

"You're gonna love it. It's all gossip and backstabbing; Lex and my mom are super into it and I watch it with them sometimes. Guilty pleasure." He looked at me sheepishly. "Oh look, it's the pilot. That's perfect, you can start from the beginning now!" wow.

"You're weird." I teased him, throwing a cushion his way, which he deflected without hesitation.

"I have some quirks, and I grew up in a house where my mom and sister had control of the remote. Give me a break!" he protested as we settled comfortably to watch, me cuddled into his side.

The show started, and within one minute of it, I saw something I never wanted to see. The lady on the screen, holding a revolver to her head. _Don't do it_ , I begged. I can't watch this. When I heard the bang go off, I got up, hand clamped over my mouth.

"Gabriella?" My getting up so abruptly startled Troy, but I couldn't think. I made it just in time to the bathroom before I keeled over and vomited into the toilet, tears spilling over onto my cheeks. The image of mama played in my head, of her on the floor in a pool of blood and the gun by her hand. I vomited and vomited and cried and cried until there was nothing left. Then, I got up, washed my face and brushed my teeth, knowing I had to face Troy.

When I opened the door, I came face to face with him, his eyes narrowed in suspicion and forehead creased with worry. I opened my mouth to speak and he cut me off straight away, hand up in the universal 'hold it right there' sign.

"No. Do not even _think_ of telling me you're fine. What's wrong? You literally just bolted out of nowhere."

"I really don't wanna talk about it, Troy." I said, pushing past him. He grabbed my hand to hold me in place.

"I'm your boyfriend. You should talk to me always." He insisted.

"You've been my boyfriend for less than 24 hours! If I say I don't wanna talk about it, then you have to deal with that!" I screamed, walking down the stairs and away from him. He caught up to me quickly and grabbed my hand. I tried to wriggle out of his grasp, but he was too strong.

"I want you to talk about it with me, Brie. Please," his voice was conciliatory, no signs of yelling there. "Something clearly upset you, come on. If you think I couldn't notice that, you clearly haven't realised that I watch you so much I pretty much am a stalker." I laughed a little, but still hesitated. I resolved to tell him later eventually; clearly, Chad hadn't told him. I was glad for that.

"I promise I'll tell you eventually, Troy, ok? Really. I just can't talk about it now." _Or ever_ , I tacked on the end in my head. He stared at me for a while, before eventually nodding to me.

"You're ok though?" he was concerned, and I didn't know how to say that I was never going to be ok. Instead, I simply said yes to placate his worries and we went back to the couch, all remnants of Desperate Housewives (a show I was positive I'd never watch) gone. I told myself to put this in the back of my head and live in the moment as I lay across Troy's chest, his hand stroking my shoulder. I shivered at his touch, remembering our fiery kisses. Just as I decided I wanted to initiate a little action between us, the timer for the pasta bake rang, and I got up. I set the table and had the food in the middle before Troy even got into the kitchen.

"You work fast," he commented, brushing a kiss on my temple before we tucked in. The food was actually good, thank god, and Troy ate a lot so I didn't have tons of leftovers that would rot in the fridge. We kept the conversation light, and by the end of dinner, it was as if nothing dramatic had ever happened.

The rest of the night was uneventful; we pretty much continued the getting to know each other game, and he asked to see my room. I played it off, teasing him saying he'd have to earn that, which he laughed at. We stayed downstairs. There was um, heavy petting in one of the makeout sessions, to say the least.

I know that considering I've only really been getting to know Troy for like 3 weeks (2 of which he was an asshole), he shouldn't really be getting this far so fast. But I want him to. I just can't help myself when he's around.

"Troy," I gasped. He didn't hear me – or chose not to – as his lips continued to roam my neck. I felt his hand lightly brush over my stomach and I instinctively pushed my groin into his. I felt him moan above me, both of us trying to keep our balance on the couch. Suddenly, in a flash, I was sat next to him, and he was looking away.

"Troy," I knew this was the whole boner thing again. He really needed to calm down. "I'm telling you, it's ok. You're a guy: you get hard ons. I'm not mad, I swear."

He ran a hand through his hair, making it even messier than it was before. "It's not about that. It's just hard to be around you and you're turning me on and I know we aren't going further right now because you're new to this and…" he was rambling, and it was making me feel bad.

"I might be new to this, but maybe soon we can sort of… you know… fix that." I pointed in the general direction of his lower body, hoping he'd get my general message. We both blushed at the implication of my words, and he grappled for the right thing to say.

"Brie, I love that you're even offering. But I can live without it for a while. Really; I promise you, I'm not gonna push you into anything you don't want to do." He tucked a stray hair behind my ear. "Don't worry about me, baby," he said before getting up.

I know he said he won't push me into anything I didn't want to do, but that was the thing. I _wanted_ to do it. I wanted to learn at least, how to make my boyfriend feel good. I wanted him to come to me with this sort of thing instead of doing it on his own at home – I'm not stupid, I know how boys are. If he thinks I think he's not gonna go home and jack off, he's an idiot.

"I better go home," Troy said. "It's getting late, and I don't wanna keep you up. We've had a long couple of nights," he grinned, winking at me.

"I'll walk you out." He tucked me into his side as we walked to the front door, before kissing me goodbye and strolling casually towards his truck. I watched him go, then got ready for bed. I checked my phone, and realised I had a couple of messages. One was from Taylor making sure that tomorrow's sleepover was still on. I responded with a quick yes before opening the other one, from Troy. It read: _tonight was great. You are the best girlfriend I could have asked for, even though it's only been "less than 24 hours." I know you weirded out on me tonight, but I hope that you'll tell me what's up soon. Text me in the morning when you wake up babe._

Ugh, he is so cute. And kind of cheesy, which I fucking love. I'm a sucker for romance, and this was such a perfect way to end my day. And with that, I fell into a deep sleep, feeling myself relax and letting myself be optimistic for the first time in a while. I'd resolved the issues between me and Troy, and now what was left was tomorrow's sleepover. I couldn't wait.


	11. Chapter 11

My dad called me this morning to ask what I'd done last night. It was the first time I'd sort of lied to him. I told him I stayed home, but not that Troy stayed with me; I didn't want to tell him I had a boyfriend yet. God knows he'd have a fit. My dad was seriously overprotective of me, and I didn't want to be banned from seeing Troy just yet, when everything was getting good. I'd changed the subject and told him that the sleepover was today, to which he told me to use the credit card for anything I needed. Pfft, like I didn't do that already.

Now, I was running around getting everything ready for the sleepover. I decided we'd sleep downstairs all together, so I had mattresses all over the living room floor. I had a pile of chick flicks on the coffee table, and the kitchen was fully stocked with food that would make us fat. I was super excited; I haven't had a sleepover in years, maybe since I was around ten or so. Even before mama passed away, I was kind of reclusive and a loner as it was. But I was aiming to change that.

The doorbell rang, and I saw Kelsi shuffling her feet, waiting for me to open the door.

"Hi," I smiled shyly at her, and she returned it just as timidly as I had. I think out of all the girls, I was probably most like Kelsi, it seemed.

"The other girls are probably gonna be here soon, but come in." She walked in, her overnight bag slung over her shoulder. I took it from her and placed it by the door, then asked if she wanted anything to drink.

"I'm good, thanks though, Gabriella. Though, I warn you, Sharpay will probably bring some wine and other stuff to make cocktails." She grinned impishly at me, a mischievous glint in her eye.

Shit, alcohol? Am I down to drink? I've never really done it before. I've had a glass or so of wine before at weddings and stuff, but that's it. But, I guess I am trying new things. And what safer place was there than my own home with people who I could sort of trust to take care of me?

"I've never really drank before," I said, an embarrassed flush gracing my face. Kelsi smiled kindly at me.

"Don't be embarrassed. I hadn't really drank till a couple of months ago either. Taylor either. It's mostly just Sharpay." She reassured me, and I breathed a sigh of relief. I also realized that they might ask me where my mom was, and my hands shook a little at having to tell more people. I just hoped it would be a quick telling of that painful truth, and we'd move on to happier things.

I was snapped out of my thoughts by the trilling sounds of my doorbell. I excused myself from Kelsi, who had by now sat the island and was flipping through a book I'd left there. Taylor smiled at me, and Sharpay squealed loudly, throwing her arms open to give me a hug, which I returned awkwardly. I was not a touchy feely person, and this whole thing was new to me.

"So, what first?" Sharpay asked as she marched through the halls. I really admired her: she was the kind of person who commanded a room the second she walked in. It was sort of incredible to watch. "I've got like, 3 bottles of wine. Definitely enough to get us a little tipsy, at least." She said casually, and I just stared and nodded my head to anything she said after that. I let her force us into wearing pajamas immediately, let her grab all the wine glasses, and let her pick Mean Girls as the first movie to watch.

"But we've all already seen Mean Girls. Why not like, The Duff or something?" Taylor reasoned.

"Duh, we wanna hear all about Gabby and Troy Bolton. We can't watch a movie we actually want to pay attention to. Mean Girls is just background noise." Sharpay waved off Taylor's logic, and I heard Kelsi giggle at their antics quietly beside me, before we both took small sips of our wine.

"There's not that much to say," I wasn't trying to keep us a secret, but I didn't want the girls knowing the shit that went down between Troy and me before we became official.

"I call bullshit," Sharpay examined her fingernails, before grabbing her wine bottle and taking a swig. She was hilarious, insisting that she wanted a bottle to herself, and that she didn't need a glass.

"Well, we _are_ like… exclusive now." I offered. All three of them gasped in unison, which caused me to stiffen. Is it such a shock that Troy would date?

"Tell us from the beginning!" Taylor shrieked; I could tell the wine was already getting to her. Behind me, Regina George was telling Cady that she's "like, really pretty."

"Only if you want to," Kelsi added kindly. She was clearly someone who knew how to respect boundaries, and I had a feeling we were going to be fast friends.

"Um, I guess it started like 2 or 3 weeks ago; Troy had spoken to me in homeroom, and then stuff happened and he gave me a ride home." I glossed over the finding and losing of my love ring. Unnecessary detail. I hate long stories. "Then, a couple of days later, I went on a run and Troy ended up inviting me to dinner with his family because we ran into each other on my usual route. I said yes, and it was nice. Then at the end of the night, he uh, kissed me." I knew I was blushing and I wanted to stop, but the looks on the girls' faces urged me to go on. I took a large sip of my wine before carrying on. "Then, long story short, he had all these weird reasons to ignore me for a week before we both gave in to everything. We're also partners for our English lit research project. And now we're dating, I guess." I finished, reaching over to pour myself some more Sancerre, as my glass was now empty.

"Stop. I'm dying; that's like, straight out of a movie right there." Sharpay exclaimed, rolling around on one of the mattresses. "I can't believe you tamed the wildcat. You guys are actually exclusive!" Hm. It seems that Sharpay was in shock.

"Actually, you guys would know more than me? Was he really that bad? Like the amount of girls he's been with?" Please, _please_ let them say it's not as bad as I think.

Sharpay, of course, was the one to answer. I liked that she was blunt; I definitely preferred that to being fed bullshit lies to protect me.

"Yeah; I mean, he wasn't a man whore, but there were definitely quite a few girls, especially a few girls at one time. Troy was never about exclusivity, until you apparently." She said.

"Well actually, they say that monogamy is totally against human nature. In fact –" Taylor couldn't spurt out more knowledge before Sharpay had swiftly told her to shut the fuck up, making me laugh a little.

"I mean, Jason once told me that Troy said he'd only be exclusive if he found someone he actually cared about." Kelsi piped up next to me. I turned, surprised.

"Jason who?" I asked.

"Jason Cross. He was my assigned gym partner last year, and we talk every once in a while." She blushed as she spoke of Jason, and it was pretty easy to tell that she had a crush on him. The way her eyes shone, and the way she tucked her hair behind her ears and adjust her glasses were telling signs of that. But no one brought it up, so I didn't either.

"I just… I don't know how I feel. I'm not experienced like those girls he's been with. He says that's fine, but what if I suck at doing things for him?" I questioned, pleading with the girls to give me an answer.

Taylor reached over and grabbed my hand. "You won't suck," she said firmly.

"Not figuratively anyway; I mean, I'm sure you'll… suck, uh, certain parts of him," Sharpay smirked. I wanted to smack her as I felt myself go red.

"Leave her alone, Sharpay." Kelsi said, feeling bad for me.

"The point is, Troy wants you. He doesn't want those other girls for a reason; he wants you. So I wouldn't worry unless he actually gives you a real reason to worry." Taylor said. I still felt some fear, but was reassured by everyone's words. Even Sharpay's, crude as they were.

We went back to drinking wine and lighter topics. They'd asked me how far I'd gone with Troy, and I said second base, although I had a feeling we'd be moving on from that soon enough. Sharpay told me that if I didn't tell her when I lost it, she'd cut me; I laughed until I saw her face and realised she was totally serious. Oh.

Then, we did typical sleepover stuff: mud masks that did nothing but make us laugh at each other rather than actually working wonders on our skin, gorging on more junk food than I'd typically eat in a month, and gossiping while old chick flicks played in the background. It was about 2:30 in the morning before the girls passed out, but I was up cleaning the room a little when my phone started ringing.

It was Troy; we'd been texting a little throughout the night, but I hadn't checked my phone in a while because I wanted to be present with the girls. There's nothing worse than that person who's always on their phone when other people are there. Plus, Troy was chilling with the basketball team at Zeke Baylor's house, so he was busy too. I went to the kitchen so as not to wake anyone.

"Brieeeee," I heard my name drawn out threw the phone, and laughed. Troy was definitely drunk. This was something I'd never seen. "Hi baby." He greeted, then heard him belch on the other end.

"Hi," I replied, "what are you up to?" I heard him shout incoherently to someone else, before getting back to me.

"I'm playing, uhhhhh…" he was clearly drunk, he couldn't form complete sentences without losing his train of thought, but I didn't mind. "Beer po… beer pong." He hiccupped through his sentences. "Brie, I miss you."

"You just saw me yesterday, Troy," I said dryly, before yawning. It was late, and much as I loved talking on the phone with Troy, I needed sleep.

"I know, but I miss you." He insisted, slurring his words a little. "Your laugh, and your smile, and your ass." I was a little stunned at the words because he never really spoke to me like that. "And your neck and your boobs. God, when I see you tomorrow I won't let you go. And the way you annoy me about getting research done for Macbeth." He added as an afterthought. After his little, uh, impassioned speech, I didn't know whether I liked drunk Troy. He was a little vulgar and it made me feel like he saw me as a piece of meat. I don't mind if we're doing sort of physical stuff, but this was different. This was Troy's inner thoughts about me, and it scared me.

"Babe, I'm gonna get off the phone before you say anything else. I'm tired," I said, yawning again, not wanting to offend him but also wanting to end this annoying call. Drunk Troy was not my favourite kind of Troy.

"Mm, bye." He said, and shut the phone.

After happily texting my dad that the sleepover was fun, I stuck my phone into the charger, then walked back to the living room to see everyone sound asleep. I snuggled into the blankets on my own mattress and lay staring at the ceiling.

Everything was working out. I had friends who actually seemed to care, and who, when the time came, I would eventually trust to tell about my mom. I had the help of Dr. Marin, one of the best people in the world, and someone who I loved. I had a dad who loved me, even if he was never there. And then I had Troy. My boyfriend. Someone who didn't freak out or get completely annoyed at me every time I had a mood swing, and someone who I eventually would have to trust.

Do I tell my dad about Troy yet? I feel like I should, but it's not something I want to say over the phone. He's always been overprotective, but I knew that I couldn't just keep this a secret from him. Mama wouldn't have wanted that. I want it to be that we sit down at dinner and I tell him, and then he meets Troy and will pretend to hate him, but will be happy because I'm happy.

 _I'm happy._ Whoa. I didn't expect to think that. I really felt it. I didn't feel happy, but on the brink of falling back into depression at any given moment. I didn't feel happy, but sad because there was a part of my life missing. I was just happy; so happy. Happier than I'd been in a long time.  
And I loved it.


	12. Chapter 12

**Author's Note: some parts of this chapter are rated M. If you don't like reading that sort of stuff, then please skip over it. The beginning and end of the M rated part will be marked with a bold asterisk. Apologies if this bothers anyone.**

I waved goodbye to the girls as they all got into their separate cars, honking happily at me before they drove away. We'd all woken up around the same time, and then had poached eggs for breakfast, courtesy of Kelsi. I had to have her teach me how to make those. _So_ good.

I'd not heard from Troy since his late night phone call. He was probably hungover, and it was only noon, so I figured he was probably just sleeping it off. I realised when I woke up that I couldn't just be mad at Troy for what he said last night. Everyone had faults, and one of his (the one I know so far) is that he can be a little obnoxious when he's drunk. Which really, now that I think about it, is not that bad. It could be a lot worse; plus, it's not like I know whether this is how Troy always is.

Sunday meant homework day for me, so whether I wanted to or not, I marched myself up to my room and worked for about 3 hours. I finished random pieces of homework, did more research on Macbeth, and a little SAT prep before I decided to go for a run. As I pulled on my spandex shorts, I contemplated how much had changed in a matter of days. I had a boyfriend, some friends, a social life. It was incredible, but also a little overwhelming. I was definitely in need of just listening to some music for an hour while I ran, and shutting out the rest of the world.

I set off at a slower pace than usual, just relaxing instead of trying to push myself. I worked up to my normal pace, then started to push myself on the last stretch of my run. It was invigorating. A rush. And with just that word, I was suddenly transported to way back when.

 _"Mama, I'm home." I called out, walking through to the kitchen to grab some food. No response. I shrugged as I opened the fridge, only to find it stocked solely with healthy foods. Not a single piece of chocolate or cake to be seen, which is what I'd been craving. I settled on some strawberries, grabbing the Tupperware before I started towards the stairs._

 _"Mom, can we please just have some form of junk food in the house? I'm on my period," I whined as I trudged up to the second floor of our house. Still, no response. I started to get worried, finding myself checking her room, then mine, then the bathroom. Nothing. But her car was here, so she should be here._

 _The guest room was all that was left, and I prayed to God mama was in there. She was. But unconscious. I screamed and ran to her, thinking she was dead._

 _"Mama! Come on, wake up," I sobbed, scared to death. My other hand was quickly dialing 911. "Please mama, I need you to wake up." It was then that I saw the needle still poking out of her arm, and a box that read pethadine near her._

 _"911, what's your emergency?" I heard the smooth voice of an operator through the receiver._

 _"Yes, I need an ambulance. My mom is unconscious. Please, help me!" I cried hysterically._

 _"Ok ma'am, I need you to be calm. What's your address?" I recited it to her mindlessly, my eyes still trained on that stupid needle. What did she take? I guess I'd find out soon enough._

 _After that, ambulances arrived and the hospital called my father, who rushed back from a business trip. It was all a blur, except for when I asked my mom why she took prescription drugs in the first place. She smiled faintly at me.  
"It's a rush." She said. "An absolute rush, doing something I shouldn't be doing. Doing something that takes me somewhere else, knocks me out. Just an incredible, amazing, rush."_

 _I shuddered at her facial expression, scared that this wouldn't be the last time I found my mom doing something she shouldn't and being someone she wasn't. And it wasn't. It wasn't the last time._

I rounded the corner onto my house, lost in that memory, but brought back to the present when I saw Troy's white truck parked by the curb, he in the driver's seat. He was wearing his sunglasses, even though it was a little cloudy out, and he was paler, not his usual tan. He saw me, and jumped out of his Ford quickly to greet sweaty old me.

"Don't come closer," I warned. "I'm sweaty and gross."

A look of relief crossed his face; I think relieved to know that I was talking to him after last night's call, if he remembers it at all.

"I don't care."

"I do." I countered. Ew. There is no way he's touching me. I smell awful.

"Fine, I'll hold off until after you shower." He said. "Can I, uh, come in?"

"Yeah, come on." We walked in, and I immediately excused myself to go shower. Troy settled onto the couch before I sprinted up the stairs. I stripped myself quickly, and stood under the soothing warm water before I did the usual shampoo, conditioner, shower gel and shave routine. I enjoyed the feeling of the water running over my skin for a few brief moments before I got out and into my bathrobe, then changing into a pair of boyfriend jeans (because I'm with my boyfriend!) and a white Calvin Klein cropped t-shirt. I contemplated applying some makeup, but didn't want to seem like I was overdoing it. so I just piled my hair into a messy bun on the top of my head and went downstairs.

"Sorry," I apologized. "I took a long time."

"Nah," he said, waving off my apology. "It's fine. You really didn't take that long. Like, 20 minutes, max." oh, that's good. I plopped down next to him, snuggling into his side. Instinctively, he wrapped an arm around me, and I admired the muscles that flexed as he did it. So hot.

"Now I get to kiss you," he said, leaning down to press a firm kiss to my lips, then my cheeks, my forehead, and then my nose.

"So many kisses," I said, laughing. Then I got up and did the same to him, kissing his face everywhere I could. Oh god, we were being _that_ couple. The annoyingly cute couple that everyone hates. Am I supposed to care? I know I should, but I am just too damn excited when I see him to care.

"So, um, I called you last night." Troy plays with my fingers, refusing to meet my eye.

"I know." I replied, not wanting to pry and make him say something.

"Brie, I'm so sorry." He started. "I mean, we just started dating, and yesterday I probably made you feel like shit, tried to push myself on you. God, I am so sorry." He looked me in the eye now.

"Wait, what?" I turned to face him. "Troy, you didn't really do any of that. You mentioned how you missed me, and how you missed, uh, certain parts of me." He looked at me skeptically. "Don't get me wrong, some of those parts you missed were a little vulgar, but that's it. I swear."

"Well, I'm still sorry." He continued to apologize, and I eventually shut him up by moving into his lap and kissing him. Obviously, being the guy he was, he responded immediately. We tried to lie down, but it was just too uncomfortable.

"Baby," Troy murmured against my lips. "Let's go to your room. Trust me, you'll be more comfortable on the bed." My pills were all hidden in my panties drawer. So the room was safe.

"Okay," I breathed, moving up away from him. "Let's go." I led him up the stairs nervously. What if he hated my room? What if he thought it was boring?

"I'm excited to see this," Troy said, grinning at me.

"I'm not much of a designer," I told him as we reached my door. I had turned the doorknob, but hadn't pushed open my door yet. "My taste is super simple, so don't judge." I said.

"No judging. I promise to still like you even if I don't end up liking your room." He teased me.

I pushed open the white door, and Troy walked in, surveying the room. It really was pretty simple.

A four-poster bed lay on one side, and there was a small white and blue lace canopy above it. I had my initials, GCM, monogrammed on the white bedding in the same blue, and there were grey borders to match the big shams I'd gotten. My stuffed elephant, Boo, held pride of place in the center of all the pillows. Bedside tables flanked the beds, each with a glass lamp.

My desk was a crisp white, but with glass drawers, and overlooking the window. It was pretty neat, with my laptop on the center and a calendar to its left. The bookshelf was there, piled with textbooks on the first two shelves, and then normal books on the bottom two.

My dresser was there too, in the same white and glass design, with my makeup in neat boxes on it, and my jewelry box as well. Some pictures hung around the room of me with my family, but other than that, that was it. Like I said, simple.

I looked to Troy anxiously.

"Well?" I prompted him.

"I like it. It's simple, but I do like it." He told me, holding my hand now. My shoulders sagged slightly in relief. Thank god. "What, did you think I was going to break up with you if I didn't like your room. Come on, Brie." He nudged me playfully, and I blushed.

"Now that that's done, come here." He tugged me, and suddenly we were both sitting on the bed. My hands made it into his soft brown hair of their own volition, and then we were kissing. Troy slowly rolled me over so that he was on top of me, but held his weight on his elbows; idly, I wondered how boys don't get tired of holding that position. Eventually, Troy moved off me, again adjusting himself.

This is ridiculous, I thought. He's embarrassed of a totally natural reaction, and it made me so frustrated at him. Suddenly, I had a thought. I could do something about it for him; I mean, I know it's been no time at all really, only a couple of days of being official, but I wanted to do this for Troy.

"Troy, please," I pleaded with him to face me, and he did, cheeks slightly red. I sighed, caressing his face. He leaned into my touch, still looking at me with those inquisitive blue eyes of his.

"Let me help you with that," I said, moving nearer to him, my hand nervously reaching for his jeans button. He backed away immediately.

"What? No, Gabriella. I told you on Friday I'm not pushing you into anything you don't want to do. No." He was adamant.

"But that's the thing Troy, I do want to." I said, hoping he heard the candor in my voice. "Really, I do. I want to do this, I swear. So, please, teach me. And let me do this for you." I begged, silently hating that I had to ask him to teach me. Again with the whole inexperience thing.

Troy was wracked with indecision, I could tell. There was, I'm sure, the male instinct part of him that told him to just go for it; then there was the Troy I usually saw, trying to do things the right way, and not push me. Right now, I hoped his male instincts would override all his other emotions.

"Fine," he said finally. _Yes!_ "But if you feel uncomfortable, then promise to tell me." He looked me in the eye, waiting for my promise. I nodded to him. That seems fair. I looked down to see that Troy's bulge was far larger than it was earlier, and I gaped. How did that ever… fit anywhere?

"Brie, look at me," Troy said softly. "There's nothing to be afraid of. I don't bite. And we're gonna go as slow as you want, ok?" I nodded. "Just don't think about it." he said, and kissed me. The kiss was slow, languorous. I moaned as Troy's tongue snaked its way into my mouth, and his hands moved towards my waist. Slowly, his hands started inching their way under my shirt, slowly pulling it up. He broke away briefly, looking at me.

"Is this ok?" He asked me for permission, his voice gravelly. I nodded, and he gently pulled my shirt over my head, leaving me in my lacy white bra; I then pulled my hair free from the confines of the hairtie, and looked nervously at Troy.  
"So goddamn beautiful," he said, reaching over and running a finger over my bra strap. I shivered at his touch, and leaned over to start kissing him again. He grabbed my hands and put them on his waist, guiding me on what to do. I rubbed circles there the way he did with me, and he made a happy sound at the back of his throat. After a little while, I moved my hands down towards his thighs, feeling the hard substantial ridge along his right thigh. Troy made a guttural sound, and then resumed kissing me, this time a little more harshly, consumed by need. My fingers crept up to the button on his jeans, and I fumbled for a second before I manage to unbutton his jeans. He lifted his hips and let me pull the jeans down, and took off his own shirt too, leaving him in just boxers. I admired his sculpted chest for a second before I looked down.  
"Brie, we can stop here," he said quietly. "This is enough for now, really."

"Nuh uh," I breathed, trembling next to him. "I want to do this." The tremor in my voice betrayed my nerves, and Troy sat up pulling me nearer to him, if that was possible.

"Don't be nervous. Guys have this saying, that any blowjob is better than none," he joked. "I know it's crude, but I'm saying it to let you know that even what you might think is bad, is not actually bad. I promise." He said, bumping his forehead against mine. I nodded, and kissed him, before slowly but surely pulling his boxers down.

 ****** Troy's dick sprung free, and I gasped. This was my first time seeing a penis; it was nothing like I expected. It was like, a mass of contradictions; steel encased in velvet, hard but soft. It was a different colour to the rest of Troy's body, more reddish pink.

"What do I do?" I said, looking at Troy. He was already breathing a little harshly. Clearly, he didn't need much to get him going.

"Wrap your hand around it, babe," he told me. I did as I was told, wrapping my tiny hand around his dick, grasping it tightly, but hopefully not too tightly.

"Fuck," Troy swore. "Now, just move your hand up and down, Brie. Oh yeahh," he groaned, his head falling back against my pillows. I picked up the speed a little, and tried to see what Troy liked most from his facial expressions. I was slowly gaining confidence, and after a little bit, I leaned down and pressed a kiss to the head of Troy's penis, tasting his precum on my lips.

"Fuck!" Troy swore more loudly this time. "God, that's good." I kissed again, and then licked him all the way from the base to the head. "Play with my balls," he instructed, his voice harsh and low with need. "That's it, baby, now just take as much of me as you can into your mouth." he managed to pant out.

I hesitated briefly, and then I enveloped Troy into my mouth, my jaw stretching wide to accommodate him. When I felt him hit the back of my throat, I recoiled a little, surprised at how much I'd done; but then I realised I hadn't gagged, and kept going further until I felt the faint tickle of his pubic hair against my chin. Then I kept at it, until suddenly I heard Troy formulate a sentence in between groans.

"Brie, baby, I'm gonna…" He stopped to moan. "I'm gonna come, babe. If you don't want me to do it in your mouth, pull back now." Well, where else is he gonna come? All over my bed? I don't think so, that's cleanup I don't want. Besides, how bad could it taste?

"Mmmph" was all I could get out before I felt spurts of something warm jet down my throat. I instinctively swallowed the couple of rounds of Troy's cum, before I looked up at him shyly, licking my lips. ******

"That was incredible." He said, eyes shining. I looked down to see his dick, shiny from my spit and now significantly smaller than before. Troy kissed me lightly before he went to the bathroom to clean himself up a little. I watched him as he moved naked around my room after that, comfortable enough in front of me to be fine with total nudity. I was obviously fine with it too, considering how great he was to look at.

"See? It wasn't so bad letting me do something." I said, smiling at him playfully.

"No, but when do I get to reciprocate?" He countered, in equal playfulness.

"I don't think I'm ready for that," I said cautiously. Oh no, what if he thinks that now that I gave him head, he can do the same with me. No way, I'm too nervous.

"All the time in the world, baby. We don't have to do anything right now." He reassured me, and I smiled gratefully.

The rest of the evening was spent joking around and talking about random stuff while we lay on my bed. Eventually though, my eyes started to droop and I yawned.

"I should get going, but I'll pick you up for school tomorrow, okay?" Troy said, getting up. I moved to get up with him, as I had to lock the door anyway.

"Bye, baby." Troy gave me one last final kiss, before he went on his way, leaving me with the promise of tomorrow morning.


	13. Chapter 13

"I arrive tomorrow at 4, mi amor." My dad said over the phone to me as I waited for Troy to pick me up for school.

"Daddy, I have my appointment with Dr. Marin tomorrow, so I won't be home to see you till after." I fiddled with my hair, looking out the window to see Troy's car pull up. Grabbing my backpack, I walked out, but before he could say anything I put up my finger to show I was on the phone.

"That's fine, honey, I'll be home for two weeks. For real, this time, I promise." He seemed adamant, but I took what he said with a grain of salt. I was sure that 2 weeks was not going to happen.

"Okay, papa. You don't need to be, but I'm glad. I'm fine on my own." I reassured him, and I heard a sigh on the other end. I climbed into Troy's truck, but he didn't start it. I think he was waiting for me to end the phone call.

"No, Gabby. I'm being an absentee parent, and without your mom around, I need to be more present." He stumbled a little at the mention of mama, a telltale sign that my dad was definitely not over what happened. He was just hiding behind his work instead of facing it.

"You're not an absentee parent. We talk like every couple of days." I protested, mostly just to make him feel better. He chuckled a little at my logic, and let it slide.

"I just feel bad leaving you in that house alone. Although, now that you said you are seeing some friends, so I do feel better." He mentioned, digging for information on my sleepover.

"Yeah, the sleepover was great. You'd like them, dad." I smiled at the thought, and I could tell he was too. Troy glanced at me, wondering I'm sure, if I'd brought him up. I ignored his inquisitive stare. "Well, anyway, I'm actually on my way to school with my friend now, so I'm gonna get off the phone." I said, hoping to end the phone call and avoid more questions.

"Ok, honey. I love you. I'll see you tomorrow ok?" he said. I said ok and quickly hung up before it became a long, drawn out goodbye. Troy started the car.

"Hi." I turned to Troy, leaning over and giving him a kiss on the cheek.

"Hey babe. How was your phone call with your dad?" he asked, tapping a rhythm on the steering wheel. I fumbled briefly with my seatbelt quickly before snapping it in place.

"It was good. He comes home tomorrow!" I couldn't keep the excitement from my voice at having my dad around, and Troy could tell. He laughed at my expression.

"That's great! Can I meet him?" he asked immediately, and I hesitated. "Brie?"

"I sort of… haven't told him about you yet." I bit the inside of my cheek nervously.

"Are you… ashamed of me?" he asked, seeming a little hurt.

"What? No!" I exclaimed. How could he even think that? "No, I just… you're my first boyfriend, as you know, and I just don't really know how to tell him. My dad is… overprotective." I explained. Troy's shoulders sagged a little in relief.

"Baby, don't worry about it. I'll charm him and get him to see that I'll take care of you." I know he meant it in a cute way, but that really irked me. I bristled.

"I don't need you to take care of me." I snapped. "I'm fine on my own." He frowned.

"I know that, but I meant that I'm there if you need me. God, for once, can you not attack me when I'm trying to be there for you?" He said angrily, looking at me from the corner of his eye, irritation clouding his handsome features. I stayed quiet for a little while.

"I'm sorry," I sighed. "I keep snapping at you, even though you mean well. I really am sorry." I said sincerely, reaching to grab his hand. He didn't snatch it away from me, which is a good sign I guess.

Troy swung his large pick up truck into a parking space, more easily than I'd imagined he could. Once it was parked, he turned to look at me, a serious expression on his face.

"Brie," he said. "You have to trust me. I'm not gonna break up with you or anything, but it's really really annoying when you won't tell me what's going on. Like the other night, running to the bathroom? I had no idea what I did, and you don't tell me anything!" I could tell he was annoyed, but I was surprised he was finally saying something.

I can't tell him. I didn't have the heart to see Troy's face when I told him about my mom. And I didn't want to see the look of pity in his eyes when he looked at me. So I made a cowardly decision.

"Ask Chad." I said, then ran quickly to the school doors, not fast enough to miss Troy's look of confusion.

When I got to my locker, I sighed, seeing a paper with 'slut' written across it. Ripping it off, I stuffed it into my locker before grabbing the books I needed and heading for homeroom. I didn't miss the smirk on Nikki's face as I walked in, or her leaning over to whisper something to Shanna as I walked past her desk. I wasn't concentrating, and didn't notice her stick her leg out to trip me until it was too late.

I braced myself for the fall, but instead, strong arms enveloped me. Last time it was Chad, but this time, I looked up and found myself drowning in Troy's baby blues.

"You ok?" he asked me, leaning down to grab a book that had fallen. I nodded, and he grasped the small of my back, ready to lead me to my seat, it seems.

"Great trick, Nikki. Tripping Gabriella will definitely make me want to dump her." Troy said sarcastically, an undertone of menace in his voice. Nikki huffed at his words. He rolled his eyes, and then we sat down, just in time for Ms. Darbus to swoop in.

Not even a minute later, a folded up paper landed on my desk. _Ask Chad what?_ It read. I sighed, reaching for a pen to write something back.

 _'Ask him why I freaked out Friday night'_ I wrote, and was surprised to find that Troy didn't write anything more. He just folded his arms and stared off into space for the remainder of class. When the bell rang, he looked at me. "Lunch on the roof?" he asked, smiling cautiously at me. I smiled back. "100%" I replied.

The usual blur of classes occurred this morning, and I was bored because none of my friends were in these classes. At lunch, I went to my locker and grabbed the packed lunch I'd made before heading for the roof. When I got up there, I realised I'd beat Troy to it, which was a surprise. He was usually early to everything.

Shrugging, I pulled out my phone and scrolled through Facebook, laughing at some of the shared videos every now and then. There was a particularly funny basketball video which I wanted to show Troy, and I pulled it up again as I heard his footsteps on the stairs. But when he got to the top, the somber expression on his face told me that something was amiss.

"What's wrong?" I asked, checking to see if he was hurt, wondering if someone had said something to annoy him.

"I had basketball practice with the team third period." He told me. So? "With Chad." He clarified, looking at me. I froze; it hadn't dawned on me that he'd find out so soon.

"Oh," I said softly. I looked down at my shoes, not having anything to say. It stayed like that for a while, both of us not saying anything.

"Brie," he sighed, and then reached to pull me into his lap. At this gesture, a tear escaped my eye and I buried my head into the crook of his neck. He stroked my back soothingly, and then looked at me.

"I'm so sorry." He apologized. I expected that. "I would never have played that show if I knew, I'm so sorry." He repeated, his blue eyes searching mine.

I took in a shaky breath, scared to see how he felt. "How do you… feel about what happened to me?" I asked cautiously. In my head, I was hoping that he wouldn't blame me for mama. I knew that Dr. Marin would say not to be ridiculous, and that he wouldn't blame me, but I needed to hear that from him.

"I feel like you don't deserve any of it Brie." He let out a breath, lost in thought.

"So you don't… blame me?"

He turned to me, surprised. "Why would I ever blame you?"

"Because it happened when I was there. Because I should have known. Because it's my fault." I said sadly, turning my ring on and off my finger. Behind us, the noises of downtown Albuquerque drifted up to this place, where no one could see us.

"Gabriella whatever your middle name is Montez." He started, and I giggled lightly under my breath. "It is not your fault, you hear me? And if I ever hear you talk like that again, I'm sending you to a therapist." He said firmly. I laughed slightly, mostly because he wasn't in on the fact that I already had Dr. Marin.

I stroked his cheek, surprised at the slight stubble I found there. "Christina," I told him. "My middle name is Christina."

"Gabriella Christina Montez," he whispered, leaning his forehead against mine as he cradled me in his lap. "I like it."

"Now you know," I said, my voice breaking. I sat up a little, a small hiccup escaping my throat. He had to hear this from me too, the whole story, and not just the limited information that Chad was able to give him.

"On July 16th, my mom sent me to go get groceries, told me she wanted to make a cake. She'd been in a funk for months, like really bad. She'd be high half the time on whatever prescription drug she got her hands on, and the other half of the time she'd be yelling at me for whatever reason." I chanced a glance at Troy, whose face was tight with concern, eyes somber. "So I go to get the groceries, really excited because I think that she's finally gotten out of this depressive state that like, consumed my house for months on end. I come back though, and I see police cars scattered around my yard. There was an officer there as I get out of the car; he stops me, asks me if I live there. Officer Parkwell," I smiled sadly, recalling the man's kind green eyes as he tried to stop me from going into the house. Troy reached for my hand, but I moved away. I couldn't finish this story if he touched me, I'd break down, I know it. "I didn't understand why he wouldn't let me in. I had like, a huge sinking feeling in my stomach, but I pushed my way through, trying to find my mom. And I did." I swallowed thickly as the image of mama on the floor flashed through my mind. "I walked into the kitchen and I saw my mom on the floor in a pile of her own b-blood," I stuttered as the tears threatened to spill over. "A handgun was right by her body, and that was all I saw before I threw up, and then I started screaming. I was hysterical. A paramedic gave me a sedative and I woke up in the hospital that evening with my dad there." Once the words were out of my mouth, I gave up and just started crying. Like, really crying, loud sobs wracking my body. I felt Troy pull me into his lap again, tucking me against the folds of his body.

"Shh, baby," he shushed me, his voice laced with pain. "I've got you."

Eventually, my sobs subsided, and the only noise that broke the silence was the honks from the cars down below. Troy didn't say anything, he just held me, and for that I was grateful. When the bell rang, I was reluctant to move off of his lap.

"I don't want to go downstairs," I whispered, and I felt Troy's head move as he looked down at me.

"I don't want to if you don't want to," he said.

And so that was how we stayed for another hour, before Troy got me into his truck and we drove to my house and watched reruns of Friends. It was a quiet afternoon filled with just us, and I didn't regret cutting school. I mean it's not like I did it all the time.

At some point, Troy's phone rang loudly, and we were both brought back to the real world.

"Hey mama," Troy answered casually, leaning back against the couch. He listened for a second before he said, "sure, I'll be home for dinner, I'm just at Gabriella's right now. We're doing homework." I grinned at his lie. We hadn't touched homework. He smiled at something his mom said and turned to me. "Wanna come over for dinner?"

I hesitated. I didn't want to intrude. "As long as I'm not intruding," I said shyly, and Troy rolled his eyes at me.

"Yeah mom, she's coming. We'll be there in like an hour and a half. Bye." He hung up, throwing his phone beside him on the couch.

"Seriously Troy. I mean it. If I'm intruding I don't wanna come." I said, and he looked at me like I was crazy.

"Seriously, Brie," he mocked me. "My mom invited you. She wants you there and I want you there. So you're coming. Plus, I think she prefers it when you come over my other friends. You smell better, look better, and eat like a normal human." He joked, and I laughed.

"Ok fine, I guess I could make an appearance. What should we do for an hour and a half?" I looked at him.

"I dunno, sit around here and be lazy? Do homework?" Ugh, I so didn't wanna do work. Ew.

"We could go for a quick run," I suggested. Troy looked at me.

"Seriously?"

"Yeah, why not?" I shrugged my shoulders.

"I've never met a girl who actually wants to sweat in front of me. You're unreal." He shook his head, as if he couldn't believe it.

"I dunno, I feel lazy and gross. I wanna run. Plus, this is my favourite kind of weather."

"Really? It's completely overcast, cloudy, and it's meant to rain." Troy said, and I nodded.

"I know, it's my favourite. I love snuggling in a big hoodie on a porch swing watching the rain come down on everything." I smiled wistfully.

"Ok, let's go, I actually have gym gear in the car. We can come back here, shower, and then go for dinner?" Troy mapped out the next hour quickly, and I ran up the stairs to change into running shorts and a tight sports shirt. I briefly contemplated changing into something less revealing before remembering that Troy had seen me in less. Within minutes, I was down the stairs and waiting for Troy to come out of the guest bathroom.

"I beat you," I teased him as he walked out.

"Very funny; I had to go unlock the car and grab my stuff before I could change, so you had a head start!" he defended, stretching his quads out as he spoke. I did the same, and then grabbed my house keys before following Troy out the front door.

"We're not gonna go too fast, are we?" I realised how much more fit Troy probably was than me, and that I probably wouldn't be able to keep up with him.

"Nah, how about you go at your pace, and I'll do the same as you? I don't really feel like intense running anyway," he suggested, and I nodded, starting to jog briskly. Troy fell into step beside me, and for the next 45 minutes, there was nothing but the sounds of our steady breathing and the rumbling of thunder above us. The second we'd stepped onto my front porch, the heavens opened up and rain started pouring down.

"Wow, we literally just missed the rain," Troy noted, kind of unnecessarily, but I nodded along.

"So um, there's a guest room next to my bedroom, you can use that to shower." Why was this so awkward? Troy smiled and waved his hand towards the stairs.

"Lead the way, Brie,"

I walked into the guest room. "So," I turned to finish my sentence, but my mouth went dry. Troy had stripped off his shirt and was just standing there, sweat lining his abs. I knew I was blushing, and I coughed awkwardly before finishing my sentence. "The bathroom is right there, I'll go grab you a towel." Troy just smirked at me. He knew what he was doing, the bastard. I booked it out of there as fast as I could, and fetched the soft white towels from the linen closet.

"Troy?" I called, not able to find him in the guest room.

"In here, Brie," I heard a toilet flush and went to the bathroom, pushing the door open to find a very naked Troy washing his hands.

"Uh, I…" I tripped over my words, and Troy laughed.

"I love making you blush, it's so easy," He chuckled, swooping down for a kiss.

"Not funny." I said, averting my eyes from his body.

"You can look, you know. You saw me like this yesterday." He was casual, not forceful when he said it, and so I brought my eyes back to his body, stepping towards him a little.

"Do you mind if I…?" I didn't need to finish my sentence, and Troy just nodded a little. Of its own volition, my hand traced the line of his hips, before grabbing his penis. I made a fist around him, and felt him grow underneath my fingers; when it twitched, I jumped a little. I started stroking him up and down, and looked into his eyes as I did it, unsure whether I was doing it right. When I saw him bite his lip though, I gained a little confidence. His eyes turned dark and stormy, and I sped up my movements a little, leaning up to kiss him softly on the lips. It didn't take long before Troy came with a low groan, and I felt his semen collect in my hand and come on to my shirt. Silently, I went to the sink and washed away the come from my hands before I turned to Troy.

He cleared his throat awkwardly. "That was unexpected." I nodded. "Brie, I don't want you to feel like you have to do this stuff. I mean, don't get me wrong; I love it. But, I don't want this to be a thing you feel obligated to do. Plus, it's not like you're letting me do anything back." He said.

"I like doing this stuff Troy. I like making you come and feel that way."

"So let me make you feel that way too," he pleaded with me.

"I don't want to do anything like that right now. I'm not ready."

"Ok. That's fine. But promise me you're not doing anything to me that you don't want to do."

"I promise. Now go, shower up. We're meant to be at your mom's in like, half an hour." I turned and quickly left the bathroom. I had to shower too, I was gross.

Less than 15 minutes later, I got out the shower and contemplated what to wear. Last time, I was in my gym clothes; this time, I wanted to make a slightly better impression. I picked out a pretty navy blue and white striped dress and some long brown suede boots, then pinned my hair to one side. Doing my makeup as fast as possible, I grabbed my purse and knocked on the guest room.

"I'm down here, Brie." I heard Troy's voice travel up from downstairs, and I rushed down the steps.

"Ready!" I called out, grabbing my brown suede jacket from the coat rack.

"Cool, let's g-" I looked up to see Troy's eyes sweeping over my body, and I blushed.

"You look beautiful." he said, then cleared his throat and opened the door. "Shall we?"

So hand in hand, we made our way to his car, ready for dinner with his parents.


	14. Chapter 14

"Gabriella, sweetheart!" Lucy exclaimed right as Troy and I walked through the front door. I smiled at her as I stepped into her warm embrace.

"Hello to you too mom," Troy piped up from behind me, and she just shushed him and told him to go put away his backpack and help his dad with some leaky faucet upstairs. I laughed at their antics, and immediately asked her what I could help with.

"Well you are just so much sweeter than my daughter, offering to help," Lucy looked pointedly at Lexie, who was painting her toenails in the living room and watching The Kardashians.

"Whatever, mom. I'll help after dinner, put away the dishes or something," Lexie promised distractedly as she concentrated on her show. On screen, Scott was telling Kim that the way she was talking is very odd, and it made me laugh quietly under my breath.

"Do you watch this show?" Lexie looked surprised. I nodded bashfully.

"Yeah. It's dumb, and Kim is annoying, but I love it. My dad hates it so much."

"OMG, same." Lexie laughed, then patted the space next to her. "Have a seat. Mom doesn't need your help that much, does she?" I hesitated, and turned back to Lucy, who waved me off. I sat down, and Lexie winked conspirationally at me.

"So, you and my brother, huh?" she said, focusing on painting her pinky toe. I blushed, and was about to nod when I realised she wouldn't see me, so I voiced my answer.

"Yeah; it's new though."

"Well, I'm not gonna lie, you're a happy surprise to the girls he could have brought home. I might be older and away from home usually, but I'm not an idiot. I know the girls he used to go for, and you are definitely better than them."

I blushed. "I'm new here, so I don't know that many of the girls he's uh, been with. Just one. A girl called Nikki." I don't know what it was that made her so easy to talk to, but I found myself opening up to her a little.

"Is she bullying you?" she glanced up at me, and I awkwardly nodded. "Doesn't surprise me. Like I said, my little brother sure knew how to pick 'em. Don't let it phase you. Girls like that will always be jealous of what they don't have, especially when it's a shiny prize like the captain of a varsity team." She rolled her eyes and then looked at me. "I know, because I was one of them." I gaped.

"But you're so nice!" I blurted out. I couldn't even imagine Lexie being another version of Nikki. It was surreal.

She giggled under her breath, and then resumed painting her toenails. Bright harlot red. "I was a soccer player. Captain of my team. And I went after the captain of the football team. Football was _the_ sport at East back then, before my dad worked there and made basketball the next best thing." She informed me, and I tried again to imagine her at East high with all the bitchy girls, and failed.

"I was like that all the way till freshman year of college. Thought I was the shit; then, I got to this big school and realised no one gave a shit about me. It was the typical small fish in a suddenly huge pond and it was a massive shock to me. So I made friends who I knew liked me for me, and not because I was the pretty blonde girl who lived down the hall, or the girl who happened to be good at a sport. My best friend, Hayley, is part of the chess club." She said, as if to validate all that she'd said.

"Don't get me wrong, I can still be a bitch if I want to. I'm pretty sure everyone can. But now, I've tempered it and I'm so much happier now."

"That's incredible," I told her.

"Yeah, I'm happy. My parents are happier, too; I think I'm a better person. Plus, all my compassion and shit will make me a good doctor I hope." Whoa. She's pre-med?

"I wanted to be a doctor for a little while. I don't think I've got what it takes though," I said.

"I'm sure that's not true. Troy says you're in like the top 5 of your class. _And_ you skipped a grade." She mentioned casually, capping the nail polish bottle and blowing softly on her toes.

"I mean, I guess I could if it all depended on how smart I was. I just don't think I'd be able to deal with that emotionally." I said quietly, memories of being in hospital various times flooding my mind.

"Well, there are plenty of careers out there. You'll figure it out if you haven't done so already."

I bit my lip, thinking carefully. "There are just so many things I want to do. I want to be a writer one day, then play the piano the next, or be a GAL the day after that." I rambled.

"What's a GAL?" Lexie asked curiously.

"Oh, sorry. It's a Guardian Ad Litem," I elaborated. "They're like lawyers who argue on behalf of the kids when there's a family law case. Kind of like a social worker, but for the law." I struggled for the right words to explain it, but Lexie nodded along anyway.

"That's really cool. Maybe you could like, be that by day, a concert pianist by night, and then write about all of it on the weekend." She quipped, and I laughed.

"Maybe. It would require the skill of time management, which I know I don't have." I said, really happy to be around her. Admittedly, I'd had a couple of reservations about Lexie after she was basically the reason Troy backed off from me, but I realised she didn't even really mean it, and she was nice to boot.

Lexie was about to say something, but Troy swaggered in and plopped himself down next to me. "Have you had enough of Lexie? I know I would by now," he said, immediately raising his arm up to protect himself from the blow his sister tried to deliver to him.

"Don't be rude," I scolded. "At the moment, I like her more than I like you." I said cheekily.

"You see Troy? I will always be the more loved one, no matter who you ask." Lexie shot Troy a smug smile, and he just rolled his eyes and stood up.

"Whatever Lexie. You're fucking pissing me off. Let's go, Brie. Mom said dinner is gonna be ready soon anyway." Troy started to drag me out of the room, and I waved back quickly to Lexie before he turned the corner.

"What is wrong with you? She was just joking. You don't need to get so defensive." I told Troy, who seemed to be weirdly annoyed at his sister for a harmless joke.

"She's freaking arrogant. It's annoying. I just don't wanna deal with her right now, I wish she'd go back to college." He said insolently, fists clenched at his sides.

"You have a really bad temper. She didn't mean anything by it, Troy. We were just fooling around. Instead of acting like a child right now, you should be happy that your sister and I actually got along with each other. It's a hell of a lot better than the alternative." I realized that this was the first time I'd ever actually stood up to Troy. Yeah, it hasn't been long since we started dating, but it's also been long enough that a pattern of me being submissive has emerged. But now I was telling it like it is, and I loved it.

"I… I was just…" Troy struggled for words, and I interrupted him.

"You were just what? Annoyed that we made a joke at your expense? News flash, this isn't East High. I'm not going to bow down to you, and neither is you sister. We're not gonna kiss your ass 24/7, and if you can't handle that, then you really need to reevaluate your ego."

We were both silent for a while, Troy digesting my words, and I, digesting the fact that I'd actually said what I'd said.

"You're right," Troy said, "I'm sorry. It was just a joke, and I took my reaction way too far. Lexie just has always gotten on my nerves. She's always been the perfect child, and no matter what I do, I'll never live up to her highness." The bitterness in his voice rang clear, and I understood that his anger stemmed not from Lexie's joke today, but to playing second fiddle to her all his life.

"Troy, you don't have to live up to her. You're your own person. And you're a great person. So stop letting Lexie be the reason you get angry." I said gently, stroking his arm in an effort to soothe him.

He let out a breath. "I know, but sometimes it's just so easy to hate her because I know I'm not gonna live up to her. She goes to an Ivy League school, and she's pre-med. Has a 4.0 even there, and we all know she's going places. And me? I have a 3.9, not a 4.0," he started bitterly. "I'm definitely not smart enough to be pre-med, and I doubt I'll get into an Ivy League school."

"So what?" I countered. "You're incredible at basketball. You could probably go pro if you want to. That's something Lexie hasn't done. Going to an Ivy League school isn't even the most important thing in the world. MIT, Stanford, UC Berkeley? Those are all top tier colleges, and none of them are Ivy. It's just a bunch of schools that became a thing," I articulated horribly. "Not going to one doesn't make you a failure, and it definitely shouldn't make you feel inferior to your sister."

I finished my spiel with a hard look into Troy's eyes, not wanting to back down, and I saw my words register slowly in his eyes.

"I guess. God, what have I done to deserve a girl who knows how to put me in my place _and_ make me feel better at the same time?" He grinned down at me, making me melt. I love when he's playful.

"I don't know. How did I get a guy who hasn't run far away because of my baggage?" I countered, my hands rubbing circles on his hips.

"Easy. Your baggage isn't baggage; it's just unlucky shit that you've been through. And if you ask me, it makes you stronger and so much more appealing than a cheerleader who is just going to fawn all over me."

I didn't have words, so I just leaned up to kiss him, right in the middle of the hallway, but Lucy called us for dinner, and we both reluctantly dragged our butts to the dining room. I waited for everyone to take a seat before I did, and then said hello to Jack, who I hadn't seen yet.

"So, you two, how was your day at school?" Jack said, as he spooned some mashed potatoes onto his plate. We both looked at each other; did he know that we'd ditched?

"It was good," Troy said, but didn't elaborate.

"That's funny," he said, and my heart started to race a little faster. "Because I recall a couple of teachers in the staff room mentioning your absences. Not to mention that Troy missed practice." He shot Troy a pointed look, and we both looked down. Lexie smirked, and Lucy gasped from beside Jack, about to interject, but Troy beat her to it.

"Dad –" Troy started, but Jack interrupted him.

"No, Troy. I understand you and Gabriella want to spend time together, but it's not an excuse to slack off on your obligations. Both as a student, and as captain of your team."

"Coach Bolton, it was my fault. Really. Please don't blame Troy; I was just not feeling well today, and he offered to take me home." I looked him in the eye, and he just stared at me for a minute or so. It felt like ten.

"Be that as it may, whoever's idea it was, the other person should say no. I trust it won't happen again." He said, looking at the both of us sternly.

"No Coach Bolton, it won't." I said, looking at him and hoping I appeared contrite. Underneath the table, Troy was stroking my knee reassuringly. I shot him a quick smile, but looked quickly back at Jack and Lucy.

"Well, now that Jack has sufficiently reprimanded you both, we can eat. Dig in everyone," Lucy said, changing the subject and ending all discussions of us cutting school. I looked down at my steak and veggies and dug in happily, as per Lucy's request. Talk at the table died down as everyone tucked in.

"So, Gabriella, you've been at our house a couple of times now for dinner, and we've loved having you." Jack said, smiling over a heaping forkful of mashed potatoes. "When can we have the pleasure of having your father over? I mean, if you and Troy are now dating, it seems fitting that we all meet," he said. I smiled at his old-fashioned ways and swallowed quickly so I could reply.

"Oh, um, he's actually coming back tomorrow afternoon, and is meant to be here for a while, so we would love to have dinner with you at some point." I said brightly, excited at the prospect of a joint family dinner. I was sure my dad would love Troy's parents once he met them, and maybe even Troy, once he got over the fact that he was dating his baby girl.

"Fantastic," Lucy clapped her hands excitedly, "we'll set aside a date soon and all have a nice dinner together. Jack can fire up the barbeque and we'll make kabobs. Would you and your dad like that or maybe something else?"

"That sounds amazing, Lucy, thank you. I'm sure my dad will be all for it once I tell him." I smiled at her warmly.

The rest of the dinner flowed smoothly, and then Troy and I found ourselves outside in the backyard again afterwards, just like last time.

"So, are you going to pick me up tomorrow morning, or will this be like the morning after from 2 weeks ago?" I teased lightly, poking my finger into Troy's side.

"Not funny." He said seriously. "It's not like I'm proud of how I acted before. Let's not bring it up."

"Ok, ok, I'm sorry." I didn't know he felt that bad about how he was. I mean, he kind of should – he was an asshole – but I didn't want him to beat himself up over it.

"I'm not mad at you for that anymore, Troy. Really; so please don't beat yourself up over something that's done and dusted." He looked at me skeptically, and I stared right back, not backing down.

"I'm not. You need to get over yourself." I shook his shoulders a little to emphasize how serious I was.

"Ok, ok. So you trust me then? You said it would take a while." He asked, stroking my cheek with his thumb.

"Yeah, I guess I do. I shouldn't; it's only been a few days, a few weeks since we even started talking. But I told you about my mom, and you didn't run away. I told you how inexperienced I was, and you didn't run away. How could I not trust you?"

"You," he said, pulling me flush against him, "are amazing." He pecked me first on my forehead, then on both my cheeks, before pulling me in for a romantic kiss under the twinkling lights of his backyard.

We sat like that for a while, both of us talking, laughing, and getting to know each other more. We weren't handsy, and we didn't really kiss. We just got to know each other. It was the best night I'd had with him in a long time. And when the time came for me to leave, I found myself reluctant to move from my place at Troy's side.

"Come on, Brie. You have to go home, we have school tomorrow. And this time we have to stay for the whole day or my dad might really get angry."

"I'm sorry I got you into trouble," I looked down at the floor, noticing a small scuffmark on my shoes, but Troy quickly crooked a finger under my chin and tilted my face up so he could look me in the eye.

"Don't be sorry. I'm glad we skipped; I'd take watching friends reruns with you and a run over calculus."

I looked into those blue eyes of his and swooned. How did I get so lucky? We walked through the house and I stopped quickly to say bye to his parents and thank them for dinner.

"Gabby, are you leaving?" I turned to see Lexie standing there, her long tanned legs on show in a short red dress.

"Yeah, I am." I moved to hug her goodbye, but she held a hand up.  
"Troy, do you mind giving me a ride to Becky's if it's on the way? I don't want to take my car since I'm drinking today."

To my surprise, Troy nodded easily. "Sure Lex, just make sure you've got a ride home, ok? I don't want you stranded." Lex smiled at him, and I thought all would go well until Troy opened his big mouth again. "And for the love of God, could you go upstairs and change? I don't wanna see my sister in her fucking underwear."

"Troy!" I snapped at him. I _hate_ when guys tell girls what to wear. Um, do we go around telling them that they look lame in their baggy basketball shorts, or their gross cutoff shirts that only fratboys would wear? No. So they need to respect us too. "She will do no such thing. She looks great, the dress isn't even that short, and we have to go now anyway. Let's go Lexie." She laughed, pinching my side as she walked past me.

"Ok kiddos, let's go." Lexie shouted as she walked out to the car. I realised too late that I was out of line telling Troy how he should talk to his sister.

"I'm sorry. I was way out of line there." I said, and Troy just shook his head.

"I'm starting to think sorry is your catchphrase. You should buy your apologies in bulk if you're going to hand them out that often." He said quietly, grabbing his keys from the table by the door. "Let's just go."

I followed him quietly out of the door, and saw that Lexie had left the front passenger seat free so I could sit there instead of her. She smiled sympathetically at me, obviously understanding what it's like to be the victim of Troy's ire, but I just slid into the front seat quietly and put on my seatbelt. Troy drove without a word, and the car ride was completely silent except for the ping that alerted us all to the messages Lexie was getting. When she reached her friend's house, she leaned over and gave her brother a kiss on the cheek.

"Thanks, Troy. You're the best. Love you." I knew Troy wanted to smile at her, enjoying the affection between them, but he was all mad and stuff, so he wasn't saying a word, and continued to stay stoically quiet till we reached my house. Sighing, I unbuckled my seatbelt and made moves to go into the house when I felt his hand shoot out and grab my arm.

"Wait, I…" I turned to him, waiting. "I don't want to fight." He ran a tired hand across his face.

"You should have thought of that before you told me that I hand apologies out all the time, and that I don't mean them, and snapping at me when I was just trying to help." I crossed my arms, annoyed.

"I know, I just… I just really don't think it's your place to tell me how to talk to my sister. It's not like she was going to change, I knew that, I just thought I'd try anyway. You should have let her speak for herself instead of butting in."

"I know. And that's why I apologized. But you weren't having it. _And_ you basically said that all I do is apologize. Which, maybe I do, but it doesn't make them any less true each time I say sorry."

Troy nodded. "I was wrong."

I laughed. "You, Troy Bolton, are learning fast how to make a girl forget she was angry." I leaned over to kiss his cheek, and he looked at me, confused. "You tell a girl she's right and you're wrong, and you're golden." I elaborated, and he chuckled under his breath.

"Well, I'm glad I'm a fast learner. If we were fighting I wouldn't get to kiss you goodnight." He said in a low voice, leaning in towards me. I smiled; he was always ready to resolve things between us physically, and I wasn't surprised at all. He was a total guy.

I met him halfway, eager as well to patch things up completely with a kiss. It started out soft, romantic. But then I bit on his bottom lip, and after that it was dual, fought with tongues and lips and moans. I surrendered myself to the feeling of just being completely in the moment, and moved to straddle Troy in the front seat of his car. I loved this position, it was just so… intimate. I was so close to Troy, and after years of shutting myself off, I craved intimacy more than anything.

"Why is it we always end up in this position?" Troy said, as he peppered kisses down my neck. I smiled, moving so he had even more access to the skin there.

"I don't know, but are you complaining?" I teased, and his eyes looked straight into mine, making me melt as he just stared at me for a few minutes.

"Hell no. No complaints here, not ever." He reconnected our lips and I pushed myself flush against him, feeling him hard beneath me. But this time, he didn't try to hide it – finally – we simply kept on going until we both pulled away, breathing hard. Troy didn't stop though, pulling me back in to start placing kisses on my neck. Oh no. I knew what he was trying to do.

"Troy, don't." I tried to push myself away, but he held me tighter. "Troy, seriously. My dad is coming back tomorrow, and I'm planning on telling him about us. If you want to make at least some sort of impression –" I broke off to moan as he reached my sensitive spot, just below my ear. "If you want to make some sort of impression, you won't leave a hickey."

"He won't see it, Brie. Promise. I'll do it where he won't see it."

"Why do you love giving me them so much? You're so weird," I played with his hair a little, mussing it up, and he smirked.

"Makes me remember where I've been, and only me." He leaned down and nuzzled his head in between my boobs. Unchartered territory.

"Is this ok?" he panted, breathing hard. I nodded uncertainly. He'd seen me in my bra, but this was different for some reason.

"No, it's not. I can see it on your face, baby." He said softly, pulling away and moving me off his lap. "Brie, don't feel like you have to say yes to everything I do. If you aren't comfortable with what we do, just say so. I'll back off, I swear." _This boy._ I couldn't believe my luck as I looked into his eyes and saw that he was sincere.

"I don't know what I feel comfortable in anymore." I whispered. "This is all new to me."

He nodded and smiled affectionately. "I get it." he nuzzled my cheek. "So, you're going to tell your dad about us tomorrow?"

"You know, I think I will." I said, excited at the prospect of the two men in my life meeting, getting to know each other. "And when he takes it well, _if_ he takes it well, you guys can meet for coffee or dinner or something."

"Good. I'm excited. Though I have to admit, it's going to be sad not having this house of yours to ourselves, whenever we want it." I laughed loudly, carefree.

"Please; my dad always says he's going to be here longer than he actually will. We'll have the house to ourselves all the time." I kissed his cheek and this time, actually opened the car door. Hopping out, I turned to smile at Troy, who stayed seated.

"Want me to walk you to your front door?" he asked.

"Nuh uh. If you do, I'll end up inviting you in, and you'll end up here for at least another hour."

He grinned. "No one said that was a bad thing. I'm down if you are."

"Usually, I would be. But right now, I need to go do some homework and get to bed. I'm exhausted. You wore me out today, Bolton." I smiled slyly in his direction before I blindly searched for my keys in my purse. Once I found them, I turned and waved at him, suddenly a little shy.

"Bye, baby. I'll wait till you're inside before I go." He said, moving to turn on the radio. The dulcet sounds of Adele filled the air, and I found myself practically skipping towards the front door, swaying to the faint sounds of the music as I unlocked it. Once inside, I looked through the peephole to see Troy drive off into the night.

After getting ready for bed, I resolved to wake up a little earlier and straighten out the house a little. The cleaning lady had come this morning, but Troy and I had left a small mess in the kitchen, the guest room, and the TV room that I knew should be gone before my dad arrived. Tomorrow had to be perfect, I thought, as I anticipated telling daddy about Troy. It just had to.


	15. Chapter 15

"So, how are you getting home from school today? I've got practice." Troy reminded me as we walked to English, maneuvering our way through the crowded halls.

"Uber, probably. I've got a couple of uh, errands, to run before my dad gets back today." I said, hoping that he wouldn't ask what errands, because I didn't have any. It was my cover for my weekly appointments with Dr. Marin.

"I can't believe you don't have a car," Troy shook his head in disbelief.

"I mean, I have my dad's car, but I won't ever drive it. It's too nice, and I'd be scared to crash it. I almost crashed my mom's car last year, and it did not go down well with my parents." I said, recalling an absolute horrific memory in which my parents almost crucified me.

"No shit. I wouldn't have pegged you as a bad driver." Troy said, his shoulders shaking with laughter. I shoved him lightly, ignoring the stares from everyone around us as they watched East High's most unlikely couple walk to class.

"Don't mock! It wasn't my fault, it was just a really rude driver who tried to overtake me and didn't look in his blind spot." I insisted, almost losing my balance as a freshman pushed past me with a backpack that looked like it was bigger than she was. "But you're right. It is weird that I don't have a car. My dad is like insisting that he's going to get me one this weekend because he thinks I'm being silly." I rolled my eyes.

"That's awesome! What kind of car do you want? Like a small one or a big one?" Of course he fixates on the type of car.

"Um, I dunno, I hate small cars, so probably like an SUV type car but not too big either. Did that make sense?"

"Brie, as long as you are my girlfriend, you need to learn about cars." Troy slung an arm around me, and I blushed at the stares we were getting.

"No offense Troy, but not even you could get me to become interested in them. As long as they're pretty and don't break down a lot, I like them. But also," I glanced at him slyly from the corner of my eye, "I'm getting to really love pickup trucks. They have a very… intimate quality to them, don't you think?"

Troy grinned outright. "Someone is sassy today," he said, and I beamed.

"It's because everything good happens today. My boyfriend picked me up with the offering of food when I got in the car, no one annoyed me at my locker, we have English, _and_ my dad is coming back today. What more could I want?"

He smiled at me, but soon faltered. "Nikki still giving you a hard time?"

I shrugged. "And then some. She's managed to recruit many of your powerful admirers to harass me." I rolled my eyes, amazed at how pathetic some people could be.

"Gabriella, come on; please let me just say something to them." He pleaded with me, but I wasn't having it. I put my hand up – the universal 'stop' sign.

"Troy, you are not fighting my battles for me. Just stop asking. This is nothing I can't handle." I insisted, stroking his arm reassuringly. I felt his muscles relax underneath my fingertips as he unclenched his fists and sighed.

"Fine, but remember what you promised me." He warned. "You promised if it got out of hand I could say something."

"And it hasn't, so let it go." I walked into homeroom and ignored Nikki's narrowed eyes directed towards me. Sharpay smirked at me and Taylor smiled, whilst Kelsi scribbled down what I assumed to be a new composition idea on a piece of sheet music paper. I swear that girl is going places.

"Everybody settle down," Ms. Darbus's voice boomed as Troy and I took our seats. "I have a few announcements to make, and anyone who interrupts me," she narrowed her eyes at a select few, specifically at Chad, "will pay in the form of painting sets during detention." We all groaned collectively; painting sets was unbelievably boring.

"First, I'd like to congratulate the debate club on their success at the regional championships this past weekend. Well done!" Ms. Darbus glared at us all to clap along with her, and we obediently put our hands together for the debate club.

"The student government, headed by our very own Taylor Mckessie, has managed to raise enough money to make your winter dance happen at the Sheraton this year. I trust you will all thank her for it immensely as you enjoy your time there." As Ms. Darbus continued the announcements, I got lost in thinking about the winter ball. It's not too far from now, will Troy and I still be together? Will he even ask me to go? What will I wear? I want to go all out for this; maybe Sharpay could help me out. Wear a pretty dress, do my hair, put myself together in a way I don't usually do. I was excited just thinking about it all.

I'm abruptly pulled from my thoughts as the bell signaling the end of homeroom rings, its shrill sound startling me. Gathering my things, I wave to Taylor, who's waiting for me to go to class with her.

"Lunch today babe?" Troy asked, and I hesitated. I wanted to sit with my friends.

"I have an idea," I piped up, a little shyly. Troy raised his eyebrows, waiting. "Why don't me and you sit with my friends? You can bring a couple of yours too, it'll be nice. I feel like we haven't spent time with any of them at all."

Troy took a strand of hair and tucked it behind my ear, his blue eyes sparkling as he smiled down at me. "That sounds great. Why not?" I felt a bubble of excitement. Chad can talk to Taylor! Kelsi can pluck up the courage to confront her crush on Jason! Ugh, yes.

Classes went by in a blur of homework assignments and deadlines. I marked everything down in my datebook and headed to the cafeteria excitedly. Troy waved, signaling that he'd already flagged a table. I dragged a nervous Kelsi to the table and we put our bags down before getting in line to eat.

"Are you ok with eating with them?" I asked Kelsi, who jumped at my voice. "I just thought it would be nice if we all go to know each other, you know?" I bit my lip, wondering if maybe I should have asked them first, rather than just telling them over group text.

"No, Gabby, I'm just nervous. I don't really do well around… well, around anyone. But especially boys." She blushed.

"Especially Jason?" I prodded, and the blush became more prominent.

"I guess so." She chuckled nervously. "He's just goofy and nice and so unlike most of the guys who take one look at me and dismiss me because I'm a drama geek, or because I'm not as pretty as the cheerleaders or whatever."

Wow. I think that's the most Kelsi has ever spoken to me in a single conversation. I smiled over at her, trying to be reassuring.

"No I get you. I feel like you never know unless you try. Maybe he even likes you. You should give yourself the chance to see where it goes."

"Thanks, Gabriella." Kelsi grabbed her tray of food, and I just got soup and an apple. I wasn't that hungry for some reason, which surprised me. Usually, by this time, I could devour a three-course meal I'd be so hungry.

As I walked back to the table, I noticed Sharpay and Taylor had arrived. Sharpay was busy arguing with Chad – I could already tell from a distance – while Zeke stared at her as if she could do no wrong. Taylor, on the other hand, was quiet and a little lost in her own world, not engaging in the animated conversation between Troy, Jason, and Kelsi, who'd managed to pluck up the courage to say something. I frowned; I wanted Taylor to be comfortable. Plopping myself down next to her slumped figure, I nudged her side with my elbow.

"You ok?" I asked quietly, not wanting anyone to know I was checking on her.

"Yeah," she responded in an equally hushed voice. "I mean, I guess. When you told us we would be sitting with them, I was more than happy to. I mean, after you talked on the phone to me last night about how Chad is interested in me, I was even kind of excited at the prospect of talking to him. But now that we're here, I don't know…" she glanced at Chad, who at this point had abandoned his argument with Sharpay in lieu of scarfing down as much food as he could down his throat.  
"You don't know what?"

"I don't know if I want to talk to him." Taylor elaborated, and I frowned. Now I'm just confused. "I mean, he's interested in me. That's incredible in itself. I don't want to talk to him, and then have him realise how boring I am. Or how I'm unlike every other girl who swoons at the idea of him paying attention to them." She shrugged. "I guess I'm just scared."

I touched her shoulder lightly. "It's ok to be scared, Taylor. But Chad likes you, and I think that you could like him too, if you let yourself. Just try." My voice was soft against the hustle and bustle of the cafeteria, but Taylor heard me.

"You're right, I guess. I'm gonna go socialize." She grinned at me and then spoke up to Chad and Sharpay, engaging in conversation. Smiling to myself, I took a bite of my apple and chewed thoughtfully. So much had changed in the past couple of weeks; I couldn't believe it. I wasn't a loner, my friends were reliable and nice, and I had a boyfriend who genuinely seemed to like me. I blushed as I thought that my experience with boys had also changed. If you'd asked me whether I'd have been making out in the front seat of a pickup truck, or going down on my boyfriend, I would have laughed in disbelief.

Suddenly, I felt a hand at my waist. Troy tucked me into his side as he continued eating. "You ok?" he mumbled around a mouth full of food.

"Uh huh." I nodded. "Just thinking about change. I mean, how much has changed in the past few weeks." I clarified.

"Good change or bad change?" he fidgeted with the hem of his shirt. Was he nervous?

"Troy," I stroked his forearm, calming him down a little. "Good change, for sure. And you have definitely been a huge part of that." I leaned up and kissed his cheek chastely. He shot a shy smile at me that blew me away; it was this smile I'd never seen him give me. Something that told me he liked me just as much as I liked him. His blue eyes shone with a little bit of apprehension, but mostly just with happiness. God, will I ever get tired of looking at him? Listening to him talk? Kissing him? Hearing him laugh? It dawned on me suddenly that I was falling in love with Troy. And fast. I needed to talk to someone, and immediately I imagined sitting down and telling my mom about Troy. Gushing to him about her, whilst she already made plans to have dinner with his parents. Getting her on my side so I wouldn't have to face my dad alone to tell him his baby girl had a girlfriend.

But that would never happen. My mom would never know about Troy. She'd never take me to get birth control like she promised when we first had the 'talk' when I was thirteen. I felt my breathing change. Get a little faster. I needed to get out of here. Standing up abruptly, I excused myself and avoided the confused stares around the table.

I couldn't think of where to go until I remembered the rooftop garden. Darting quickly up the steps, I got up there and sat on the bench. I was panting, gasping for breath, but no tears were coming. Pulling out my phone, I dialed the number that I knew would have someone who could help me. I sucked in ragged breaths as the phone rang and rang. On the fifth ring, I debated giving up, but then I heard the click as the line connected.

"Gabriella?" Dr. Marin's confused voice sounded over the phone. "Is everything ok?"

And that was when I started crying. "I'm sorry; I didn't know who else to call." I blubbered like a baby.

"It's ok, Gabby. Just breathe," she instructed. "Tell me what's going on."

"I was thinking about how I wanted to tell my mom that I had a boyfriend. That I had friends. Actual friends, who sleep over and give me advice. Telling her about how happy I am. And then I realised th-that…" I sucked in a breath.

"That?" she prompted.

"That I'll never g-get to do that." I wailed, sobbing. I clapped my hand over my mouth to muffle the cries, on the offchance that someone might be around to hear it.

"Gabriella, sh." Dr. Marin soothed me. "It's ok to feel sad. But not being able to tell your mom is just another thing that comes with her passing. You have other people. Your father, your boyfriend's mother if you like, even me. Don't feel like she is the only one you could ever tell anything to. She would have wanted you to move on, tell other people what you would have told her."

I quietly listened to Dr. Marin, my sobs subsiding eventually into sniffles. She promised that we could discuss this further today in our session, and with that I hung up. I checked my phone and found that there were still 20 minutes left to the lunch hour, and I decided I'd stay up here. Pulling my knees up to my chest, I curled into myself and stared out at the horizon, calming myself down before I had to go down and pretend everything was fine.

"Brie?" I heard a tentative voice call behind me. I turned to see Troy, edging towards me, worry all over his face and relief at managing to find me.

I swallowed the lump in my throat before talking. "How did you know where to find me?"

"I checked the library first, and when you weren't there, I guessed here. I had a feeling you liked it since I showed you it." I smiled slightly at the fact that after only 2 weeks, Troy knew me better than a lot of people.

"I'm fine." I told him, moving over so he'd have space to sit next to me. "Just a little sad; and then the cafeteria was just too noisy, I just needed to get out for a bit."

Troy glanced at me, worry still etched on his face. "You've been crying, babe. I just wanted to make sure you were okay." My eyes must be so red, oh god. I pulled out my phone camera, trying to see what a mess I looked like. When I saw my reflection, I swore under my breath. I looked like shit. This is so not how I wanted Troy to ever see me.

"Hey," he tugged at my hand. "Gabriella, leave it. You look fine, I promise."

"I look like shit. My eyes are red as all hell, and my cheeks are blotchy."

I felt Troy's lips leave tender kisses on my eyes, then my cheeks, then ghosting over my forehead before he quickly kissed my lips. "You look beautiful to me." I blushed at his words.

"You're really sweet, you know that?" I looked up at him, staring into his eyes. God, I love his eyes.

"Only to you." He murmured as he buried his face in my hair, nuzzling me.

"Are you just sweet to me?" I smiled mischievously, running my hands through the hair at the nape of his neck. He grinned lasciviously at me and pulled me into his lap so that I was straddling him. We always end up in this position.

"I can be whatever you want, Brie." He started to kiss down my neck, sucking and biting on the skin near my ear. I held back a moan. This felt _so_ good. "Sweet," he kissed along my jaw. "Naughty," he nipped at my ear, and I leaned back to give him more access. "Nice, mean, whatever you want baby." His tongue flicked out and drew a line down my neck, all the way to my collarbone, before he bit lightly.

"Troy, no hickeys." He ignored me. "Troy, my dad comes back today. And I'm gonna tell him about us. It would look a whole lot better to him if I didn't have hickeys all over my neck." He groaned.

"I hate your logic, Brie. But you're right. I want a good first impression on your dad, and the hickeys from before have only just started to fade. No more, for now. Promise." His eyes told me he was sincere, but his hands roving over my body told me he still wanted to mess around. I squirmed in his lap, feeling his arousal from underneath me.

"Worked up?" I teased, still moving against him as I leaned forward to kiss him.

Troy broke away to groan. "Fuck," he swore. "Babe you need to get off. There's only 10 minutes left before next period, and I don't think Mr. Canella will appreciate me walking in with a hard on." I scooted off him, reaching for the button of his jeans.

"Then we'll just have to fix that." I grinned up at him, peering at his darkening eyes through my lashes. He was already breathing harshly in anticipation, and I don't think he could have complained even if he wanted to at this point, he was so worked up. Unbuckling his belt, I pulled his jeans and boxers down in one swift move and grabbed his penis. When I leaned forward, my hair must have tickled him, because he suddenly jerked his hips.

"Brie baby, we don't have much time. Come on, don't tease me. Let's make this a quick one." He pleaded from above, and I decided to be nice. I quickly took him in, bobbing up and down as fast as I could without gagging. I felt him harden even more in my mouth, and I swirled my tongue along the tip, tasting the precum and relishing that I can do this to Troy. Relishing that I turn my boyfriend on. I felt Troy's hands weave themselves into my hair, and soon he was pushing in and out of my mouth, and I didn't have to do much work.

"Fuck babe, your mouth is so good." He groaned, and moved his hips faster. I was about to gag when I felt Troy pull back, his dick coming out of my mouth with a little pop. What the hell? I looked up at Troy, who was breathing harshly, his hand around the base of his penis.

"I'm gonna come. Shit, I need a tissue."

"Troy, you've done it before in my mouth, it's fine." I inwardly rolled my eyes at him before taking him in, sucking on the tip especially and swirling my tongue around it as if my life depended on it. I felt his penis jerk in my mouth, and then I tasted the acrid flavor of his cum shooting down my throat. I swallowed quickly as more and more of it came, before I finally leaned back on the heels of my feet and wiped my mouth. Troy was still panting, and I fixed my shirt and hair before sitting on the bench next to him. Checking my phone, we still had a couple of minutes till the end of lunch break. I grinned; we were nothing if not punctual, even when we were doing shit like this.

"Shit, baby." He exhaled loudly. "That was fucking amazing." I smiled at him, and he kissed my forehead, then leaned against it as his breathing came back to normal.

"I don't think I've ever come so much in my entire life. You do that to me. You really get me going." He looked at me seriously, and I blushed.

"I… I don't really know how to answer that." I said honestly, at a loss for words.

"You don't have to." He leaned down and pressed a kiss to my lips before he got up. "Come on, we don't want to be late." He pulled me up, and I grabbed my backpack, which he'd so kindly brought for me when I left the cafeteria abruptly. "Hey," he stared down at me, concern still evident in the crinkle around his eyes. "You're sure you're ok?" I nodded, grabbing his hand and leading him downstairs. Just as we reached Mr. Canella's class, the bell rang, and we walked in, the first ones to arrive.

"Ah, I see partnership suits you too well," Mr. Canella commented. "Punctual, and full of new knowledge about Macbeth, I'm sure."  
"You know it, Mr. Canella. Brie here keeps me on my toes anyway, so the research is coming along well." Mr. Canella tried to stifle a smile at Troy's buoyant nature, but it escaped anyway. He adjusted his tie before responding.

"Yes, Mr. Bolton. I'm sure _Gabriella_ ," he emphasized my full name, "has been very diligent about the research. I'm sure both of your essays will exceed any and all expectations I may have." At this point, students started pouring into the classroom. Troy dragged me to sit at the back of the class with him. Of course, I insisted Taylor and Kelsi sit with us, so we ended up dominating most of the back row.

"Good afternoon, young thespians." Mr. Canella started dramatically, waving his hands in a flourish. "Today will be quite a leisurely class. You'll be working with your partner to brainstorm ideas as to how you may identify with a character or a theme in Macbeth. I want this to be personal." He said sternly. "I don't want a generic idea that doesn't force you to reflect on your actions. I want something that really calls to you on a personal and emotional level. You can start, go." With a dismissive wave of his hand, he retreated to his desk, where he pulled out a Dan Brown book and left us to our own devices.

I fidgeted. There was a lot I identified with in Macbeth, but one clear idea I was pretty sure I was going to do. I just wasn't sure I wanted to voice that to anyone else. But if I had to, I guess I'm glad it was Troy I was partnered with. When I looked over, Troy was deep in thought. I won't lie; I didn't think he'd care so much about the assignment, or doing well. But I guess I misjudged him.

"Penny for your thoughts?" I asked as I pulled my chair up closer to his, bringing my notebook with me. Troy looked up, startled. He shook his head as he opened up his laptop, pulling up the research we'd done so far.

"It's nothing; just thinking about the theme I might pick for this paper." He said distractedly. I rubbed his back a little, inching closer.

"I know," I agreed. "It's hard to pick."

"Do you know what you're gonna do?" he looked up, curious.

"I think so, I just have to look into it. Anyway, let's just get going with this research. That way, we can get to picking the theme we want to write about later." We got to work, keeping our heads down for the next hour and finding quotes and scholarly articles that would eventually become the backbone of our essay. The more I read, the more my paper started to solidify; although the theme was sad, I smiled slightly; I was excited at the prospect of writing this paper now that I had almost all the material I needed.

"Hey you," Troy nudged me, "why are you smiling?"

"It's nothing, I'm just kind of excited at writing this paper, now that we have almost all the research done and I know my theme. I kind of can't wait to dig into it." Troy busted out laughing, shaking his head at me.

"Only you would be excited to write a research paper." He was still shaking his head in a mixture of disbelief and amusement.

"I'm a nerd." I said in explanation. "This sort of stuff actually appeals to me."

"Well," Troy said, pulling me so close to him I was practically on his lap. "I think it's sexy." He nuzzled my ear affectionately and I blushed. Realizing we were in public, I tried to pull away, but Troy simply held me closer. A loud throat clearing from the front of the class quickly had us looking up though.

"Mr. Bolton." Mr. Canella boomed from the front of the room. "Whilst I'm sure you're enjoying your time with Miss Montez in the back of my classroom, the rest of us do not appreciate this public display of affection. Now, shall we all leave to make you more comfortable, or can we have a productive last 10 minutes of class?" His eyes twinkled in merriment at his own sarcasm, whilst I scrambled back to my own seat and grabbed a book to hide the redness creeping into my cheeks. Troy, on the other hand, seemed completely unfazed. He just grinned, and replied, "I'd say I'm sorry Mr. Canella, but you once told us that lying wasn't tolerated in your classroom." At this, chuckles were heard from across the room, and Mr. Canella himself was doing his best to hold back a laugh of his own.

"Very well, Troy. No apologies are expected from you this afternoon." The class settled down and we went back to working until the bell rang. After that, time flew and before I knew it, I was in the car on the way to Dr. Marin's. As I did, I made a checklist of everything I was doing this afternoon in my head. Telling Dr. Marin everything; telling my dad about everything; introducing my dad to Troy. What the hell did I get myself into?


	16. Chapter 16

"Sorry Gabriella, just give me a second, it's been a rough day." I watched as Dr. Marin frantically rushed to grab her folder on me. Her normally styled hair was a little frizzy at the ends, and there was a coffee stain on her blouse. I don't think I'd ever seen her look so frazzled. In a weird way, I was reassured that she was human, just like everyone else.

"Tell me about your week," Dr. Marin started. "It seems like a lot has changed since you last sat in that chair."

I glanced up, stopping myself from fidgeting with my ring. "I guess a lot has changed. Where do you want me to start?" I ask.

"Start with the fact that you have a boyfriend," Dr. Marin suggested, a smile gracing her face for the first time since I stepped into her office. "You mentioned it today on the phone."

"It's a long story, though," I bit my lip, not wanting to bore her with details of my teenage relationship. She's paid to help me, not listen to me talk about boy troubles. "I don't want to bore you."

She laughed a little. "Trust me Gabriella. What you say will not be boring. And since last week, I've been curious to see how that relationship with Troy played out. I assume it is Troy we're talking about?" she pressed. "How did everything come to be?"

I sat back in my chair, relaxing a little. Mama would be annoyed I was slouching, but it's not like she's here anymore to tell me off, I thought bitterly. Shaking my head, I began to talk. "I guess it all started when I visited my mom's grave last week." God, had it only been a week ago? "After you told me your story about Adam, I don't know, it kind of got me to thinking about how maybe my mom dying isn't all my fault." I shrugged, my hands shaking in my lap. "I went to her grave for the first time since the funeral and sat there, just thinking about everything. But then Troy's best friend was there just by coincidence, and he hinted that Troy acting that way towards me was more of a personal thing than something against me. I was confused, but the next day at school, we were partnered up for essentially a month and a half long English research project. Now we couldn't avoid each other so we decided to meet at his house the next day to work on it."

I swallowed thickly and blushed as I thought of how to go on with the story. Why was this so embarrassing? Dr. Marin raised her eyebrows at me, as if in question as to why I was sat in the office blushing as I thought of Troy's hands all over me.

"Anyway," I continued. "I went over and we worked on English, mostly in silence. And then, I don't know, he kissed me." I was as red as my bag at this point, and all I'd said is that he kissed me.

"Gabriella, don't be shy. I've heard a lot more explicit stories in this room, believe me." She grinned at me, and I briefly remember her cheering me up once by telling me she once treated a porn star. Encouraged, I went on.

"I was so angry at him. He freaked out at me telling a story about mama, and then kisses me, and then finally, he tells me that he was scared I was too good for him so he pushed me away." I looked up at her. "I don't understand boy logic, but he seemed sincere. He's an idiot, but he's kind and gentle, and he looks after me. He knows about my mom, I told him. He says it's not my fault, just like you and papa say. I'm even starting to believe it a little." I don't know why I was trying to sell Troy to Dr. Marin. I guess I just wanted her to approve of him the way a parent would. "I really like his family too. Lucille is so kind and motherly, and her cooking is incredible. Jack is super chill, and his sister Lexie is sweet. I don't know, I just see it going somewhere, even though it's only been a week. I guess that's why I was so sad because my mom would never be able to experience meeting my boyfriend. I would never get to see her be happy for me, take me to get birth control, all the things she'd promised to do before." I teared up a little, but kept a hold on my emotions.

Dr. Marin briefly wrote something in her notes, before putting her pen down and pinning me with her inquisitive stare. "Do you think your mother would want you to feel that way? Sad that she isn't here, instead of enjoying all these new people and new experiences?" Ugh, I _hate_ when she starts answering me with questions.

"I don't know, would she?" I wanted her to answer me properly, not just wait for me to open up. I wanted advice, goddammit. Dr. Marin sighed and leaned back in her chair. Idly, I wondered if she ever got bored of her desk chair and sat in the couches around her office; if she ever drew the curtains so she could let some sunlight in. Her voice brought me back to attention.

"Gabriella, you have experienced a loss that no child should ever go through. It is painful, and it will be painful for years to come. There will be times that you're going to wish your mother was there, and I'm sure this is one of them. But think of all the positives that came out of this week rather than the negative. Stop focusing on what you can't have with your mom and start focusing on what you did have with her, and what you have with the people around you now. Life is all about the living, not about grieving the dead." I winced at the last word, but stayed quiet.

"As for all of the things that you wanted to do with your mother, your father can fill a lot of those roles. It might be uncomfortable, but both he and you need to step up to the plate and accept the challenges that come with the adjustment of becoming a one-parent household. Perhaps it would be beneficial for him to come with you for one of the sessions."

"Dr. Marin, how would I go about telling my dad I need birth control? That is just awkward and uncomfortable." I told her, not being able to get past that. Talking to my dad about my relationship problems was one thing, but talking to him about sex? He would probably die if he thought of his baby girl as anything less than innocent. No way. Nu-uh. Not doing it. I crossed my arms defiantly.

"Believe it or not Gabriella, most parents step up to the plate. Your dad may want you to be his little girl forever, but he isn't stupid. You having a boyfriend will definitely tell him you're growing up, and if you explain that it was something you were going to do with your mother, then you never know." I sighed. She was right, and I knew it, but I just didn't want to go to my father with this.

"I guess. Anyway, I mean we just started dating, it's not like I'm going to be you know, having sex," I coughed awkwardly. "Anytime soon."

"That's good. You don't want to rush into anything. In our first session you told me you were a virgin. I would hate to think that you'd rush into giving that away." I nodded, blushing a little that while I was still a virgin, I had done a lot more. Dr. Marin caught my look.

"Gabriella, is everything alright?"

"I just, we haven't had sex, but we've done stuff… is that weird?" I ask her.

"Stuff?" she raised her eyebrows. "What sort of stuff?"

"Like, stuff that someone doesn't do after only a week of dating. Touching down there kind of stuff." I covered my face with my hands to hide my embarrassment. No matter what adult you talk to, I've discovered, this is just embarrassing.

"I see. Well, I once told a patient that every relationship goes at its own pace. I'd give you the same advice. Now, I'm not saying that you should just rush into everything, but if what you're doing feels right; if the pace you're going with Troy feels right, then it probably is. You will know in your gut." I listened carefully and thought.

"I think I go at my own pace." I said bluntly. "Troy has never pushed me, like, not at all. With the exception of our first kiss, I've always been the one who initiates stuff. He's scared to push me, and lets me dictate the pace." I explain. "So I'd say it feels right because it's the pace I want. I think if I had a gut feeling that I was going too fast, it would have been this past week, but there's nothing there. I feel perfectly ok with what I'm doing."

She smiled at me, a genuine smile. "Gabriella, I am so happy for you. It sounds like worries from last week have dissipated. And you carried through with a promise of a delayed sleepover, I hope?"

I nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah, three of my friends came over and we had a little to drink, gossiped, at junk food, watched movies, normal teenager stuff." I said, and Dr. Marin laughed.

"As a maternal figure to you, or some sort of adult figure, I can't say I'm not happy for you. I really am; I've grown an unprofessional liking to you, Gabriella."

"Gabby," I offered. Inside, I was smiling. Dr. Marin could never replace my mother, not ever, but she was the closest I had right now. And I knew that she'd be there for me. For now, that was all I could ask for.

"But," she continued, a sterner glance now. "As your psychiatrist, we need to discuss your behavior last week. It worried me to the point that I had to put you back on your original medication. That's nearly 2 months of progress gone. And that's something I don't want to happen again. Because I really believe that you are doing so well, that eventually, you won't need to come to this session more than once a couple of months." She said, and I brightened. She really believed that? "But to do that, I need to see that you can stabilize your moods, that you don't panic or get anxious at any change in your life. It's natural to worry, or be sad, but you shouldn't delve into a deep depression the way you did." I glanced down at my fingers.

"Unfortunately, you have a genetic predisposition with depression and addiction, so my words of caution are this: every teenager drinks, but if at any point you feel like you can't stop yourself reaching for another, you tell me immediately. I highly doubt you will become addicted, but it's just a word of warning. As for depression, you know better than anyone else what the consequences can be. So just be careful. Talk to me, to your dad, to Troy – to all of us even. Whatever you think will help." I nodded, glad that we had discussed this all, and made to stand up since my session was almost over. Dr. Marin's hesitant voice stopped me.

"I have one confession to make though, and I do hope you won't be mad." I sat back down, intrigued. What could she possibly have done that would make me mad?

"What is it, Dr. Marin?"

"You can call me Alicia if I can call you Gabby," she said, her voice soft. "But anyways, my confession is this. I um, I know the Bolton family. Quite well actually." _What?!_ How on earth does she know them? This is unreal.

"What… How do… I don't understand." I let my sentences trail off and Alicia smiled softly at me. "Lucille Bolton and I have been best friends for nearly 10 years. We met in my last year and her first year of medical school after she decided to go back when her kids had gotten a little older. After my husband died, she took care of me. She took such good care of me, and I returned the favour by babysitting for her kids occasionally when she was doing her intern year. I got close to Troy and Lexie, bringing them the occasional gift, trying my hardest not to psychoanalyze them." She joked, but I was too entranced by what she was saying. Actually, it all made sense; sometimes she'd be on the phone to someone called 'Luce', and that's what Jack calls Lucille as well. Anyhow, when I didn't laugh, she cleared her throat awkwardly and carried on.

"Anyway, I still go to their house every once in a while to have dinner and spend time with them. As your psychiatrist, I'm technically not meant to tell you that I know whom you are talking about. But, in the off chance that we both are in the same place with the Bolton family, my question is how you'd like me to act?"

Huh? "What do you mean?" I said slowly, trying to process everything.

"There is a golden rule in psychiatry and therapy. Outside of this office, you as the patient have a right to ignore us, pretend we don't exist. As therapists, we won't say hello to you first. If you say hello, then we will as well. In this case, my question is whether you want me to act as if I do know you, or should I say nothing?"

"Oh, um... nothing please. It's not that I'm ashamed of you Dr. Marin, I'm not." I rushed to explain. No matter what she said, I could still see a small sliver of hurt cross her facial expression before she masked it. "I'm not mad at you for not telling me, it was your job to stay quiet about this sort of thing. And I appreciate everything you do. You're the closest thing I have to a mother. The thing about being attached goes both ways." I said shyly, and she smiled, holding my hand over her desk. "But I haven't told Troy yet. And I don't know how to approach it. And I don't want Lucille and Jack thinking I'm crazy. I'd rather just keep this quiet."

"I understand, Gabby. That's perfectly reasonable. If it means anything though, Luce and Jack wouldn't think you're crazy. They'd think that you've gone through something awful and need a little help. If anything, they'd respect you for getting the help you need. I know those two like they were my own family, and they would never in a million years think you were crazy." I nodded.

"I'll tell them eventually, ok?" I promise. I don't want to hide Alicia. She's a huge part of why I'm better, and she deserves for me to treat her the way she deserves in the privacy of the Bolton's home.

"Well, it looks like time is up." Dr. Marin said, and she stood with me. "How about I drop you home so you can see your father?"

"You want to come?" I questioned, a tone of surprise lacing my words.

"Well my next patient cancelled on me, and I don't mind going that way. I'm actually headed in that direction anyway, so it's convenient for the both of us." She locked away her file cabinet, before she turned to face me. "Shall we?" she put an arm on my shoulder and led me to her car. It was a sleek little Audi, and as I slid in, I noticed how orderly it was. It made me smile – Dr. Marin's personal belongings echoed her character.

The car ride was silent, with me just directing her every now and then. She had Adele crooning in the background, and I sat back and enjoyed the music as I waited to reach my house. Finally, Dr. Marin turned the corner and pulled up to my driveway. I noticed a light on in the master bedroom on the second floor, which meant my dad was home. I turned to Dr. Marin, shot her a sincere thank you, and then sprinted up my steps. She waited till I'd safely gotten in before she pulled away and drove off into the distance.

"Daddy!" I called as I bounded up the stairs, and I heard his answering laugh from his room before he stepped into view, arms out and ready to receive my hug. I sprinted full force into him, and relished the contact. Oh, I missed this man. He might have his flaws, but he is the best father I could ever ask for.

"Hi _bebe_ , how are you?" he said, and I noticed that he'd gained a little weight. He looked a little better. I guess we were both healing.

"I'm good, papa. Dr. Marin drove me home by the way."

"Kind of her, but as of next week, unnecessary. Tomorrow we are going to buy you a car. No more discussion." He said sternly, and I nodded.

"I know; I kind of want one now. What kind do you think I'll like? Can I have a big one? Not like a huge car, but not one of the like compact ones, they're ugly. Is that ok?"

"Slow down Gabby, honey, one question at a time." He laughed as we entered the kitchen. "You can have whatever you want. At this point in time, price is no object – within reason – you haven't asked for anything so I see no reason to deny you a car you want."

Do I bring it up now?

"Well see, daddy, there might be a small reason." I said shyly, nervously. Oh my god, my dad was going to kill me. He was going to be so mad. He looked at me, mirth still evident on his face.

"What? You maxed out all your credit cards that you never use?" he teased.

"No. I, uh..." my father started to realise I wasn't joking, and suddenly narrowed his eyes at me.

"You what, Gabriella?"

"I… gotaboyfriend." I said it quickly, so quickly that it all sounded like one word. But I knew my dad had heard. He paled, before looking at me again. "You got what?" he asked, his voice calm but tone menacing.

I sighed in resignation. "I got a boyfriend."

"And who, might I ask, is this boyfriend of yours?" God, he was doing that thing parents do. The one where they're fuming inside, but appearing rational on the outside. I hate it. It's so scary.

"His name is Troy Bolton, daddy." I said quietly. "He's in my class at school. We're partners for that English project I told you about."

"And what is he like?" I looked at him questioningly. "Is he an athlete, what clubs are he in, what's his family like? Do you know anything about him Gabriella?" I felt myself get angry; why does he just assume things before I answer. Shy Gabriella was no longer. In her place stood Angry and Passionate Gabriella.

"Actually, dad, I do know him. Very well, in fact. He is an athlete, yes. He's captain of the basketball team. But he's also planning on running for student body president next year, he's in almost every AP class that I'm in, and his family are some of the kindest people I've met. His mother is a doctor, and his father is the coach of the basketball team. His sister is taking a semester off, but she's a college student doing premed." My dad stayed quiet, looking begrudgingly impressed at Troy. I have to admit, on paper, he's almost as good as he is in real life.

"How did you meet his family?" my dad asked, and I rolled my eyes. This was worse than the Spanish Inquisition.

"Well, the first time, I was on a run and ran into Troy because he was running the same route. We were close by to his house, and he invited me to dinner because I wasn't going to do anything at home since there was no one here." A flash of guilt passed across my dad's face, and I felt bad for bringing that up; but I was not about ready to back down on this.

"The second time was when I was invited to come over after Troy and I had been slaving over our English project for dinner, at which point his parents asked when we could all organise a dinner together."

"And they seem like good people?" My dad asked. I let myself relax a little, realizing that he was just trying to protect me.

"They are daddy. Really, they are. Troy knows about mama. He looks after me. His parents don't know how she died, but they were both sincere and tell me to come for dinner anytime you aren't home. They're really, really good people. The best." I implored my dad to see my side, and thankfully, I saw it in his eyes that the interrogation was over.

"Is Troy… is he pressuring you to do those things… those things that you might not want to do?" my dad asked gruffly, looking away to hide his embarrassment at asking his own daughter whether she was sexually active.

"No, papa, not at all. I promise. Everything we ever do is initiated by me, and we never go that far, I swear." I was amazed that I got that sentence out without stammering. My dad looked happy at that. This was singlehandedly the most embarrassing thing ever. But since we're on the topic, do I bring up the whole birth control thing that Dr. Marin and I had discussed?

"Since we're on the topic though daddy, I do have something to tell you. Dr. Marin told me to tell you because she said we both have to adjust to this one-parent household." My dad looked up, wary of what was to come. _As he should be_ , I thought to myself.

"Today, thinking about telling you about Troy, I got a little sad because I wanted to tell mama too. I wanted her to be a part of this. Whenever we would talk about me getting a boyfriend, she would always say she wanted to do everything with me. She wanted to get me ready for my first date, gossip about how much I like him, all that sort of stuff." I cleared my throat from the emotion building up, and looked at my dad. His eyes were sad, listening to me lament the fact that I can't go to my mother to talk about stuff anymore; his eyes were sad, but the rest of him was listening. "Anyway, one thing mama said she'd do is take me to get…" I closed my eyes. I can't say this; it's too embarrassing. It's too awkward. "She said she'd take me to get birth control, just in case." I said, my eyes still shut. After a moment of silence, I opened one eye to gauge my dad's reaction. He was stoic, his hands balled into fists. I watched as his face turned different colors – pale as a sheet, then red, then nearing purple, before going back to his usual tan. I waited fearfully.

" _Ay mierda."_ My dad cursed, before rubbing his temples. "Gabriella, _bebe_ , this is a lot to take in. I don't want to yell at you, so you need to leave me for a bit. Go upstairs." I didn't argue, shuffling along the hallway and sprinting to my room. Once there, I grabbed my phone and texted Troy: _told dad. Might be the end of the world. Will let you know by the end of the night._ Laughing at my dramatics, I threw my phone on my bed and did some work; I had a lot to catch up on, and so for the next couple of hours, I threw myself into my work. When my dad called me down for a late dinner and a talk, I had finished most of it. Feeling accomplished, I left my desk and walked down the stairs to my fate. When I got into the dining room, I saw that my dad had made empanadas, which was his specialty (read: the only thing he's really good at making). Sitting next to my dad at the head of the table, I stayed quiet, waiting for him to talk.

"Ok." He exhaled, clapping his hands loudly. "We'll talk first, put this all to the back of our minds for now, then eat, ok?" I nodded, still waiting for what he had to say. Oh my god, what if he said I couldn't see Troy? What if he just completely banned me from school to make sure I'd listen? _Calm down Gabriella_ , I told myself. He's not going to do that – I've been watching way too many high school dramas.

"I won't stop you from having a boyfriend, _mi hija_." My dad started. "You are getting older, and unfortunately for your old man, this is natural. But, I have rules. When he's here, there's an open door policy, whether or not I'm in the house. Understand? Actually, when he's here, no going up to your room if I'm not there to keep an eye on you." I nodded. His rules were fair, and besides, if he's not here and Troy comes over, how would my dad know what we did anyway?

"Your grades are still important. If in your next report, I see that your grades are slipping, I might have to take stricter measures with you and this relationship. I don't want having a boyfriend to take importance over grades. And that _is_ something I will not relent on."

"That's fair, daddy. But just so you know, I would never compromise my future for a boy. Grades are still important to me. I still want to go to an Ivy League, promise." My dad smiled at me for the first time since this conversation, reaching over to touch my shoulder.

"I'm glad, _nena_. As for your last question, about the uh, the birth control." He coughed, looking away. "Your mother would have crucified me, God rest her soul, if I said no to this. And Dr. Marin is right. If it was something your mama was going to do, then it is something that is now my responsibility to do with you. And I can at least rest assured that you're trying to act responsible. I will make a doctor's appointment for this Friday." I smiled, but his stern look made me stop. "Gabriella, just because I am doing as your mother wished does not mean that I am accepting of it. I don't like the idea of you with a man like that before marriage, but realistically, you will not wait till then. All is ask is that you don't rush. You have all the time in the world to find the perfect person. Don't take this birth control and jump into bed with your boyfriend because you think you're safe. Do you understand me?" I nodded, and then wordlessly hugged my dad. I didn't, in a million years, think that he'd be this understanding. But I guess I was misjudging a lot of people these days.

"Thanks, daddy, for everything." I said, and he nodded. "Now that all the awkward conversation is over, let's eat and you can tell me a funny story about New York. How's that new secretary of yours?" As I reached over to plate up the empanadas for my dad and myself, we fell back into mostly normal conversation, filled with laughter, some wistful stories about my mom, and eventually we ended up watching Friends again on the couch. I quoted most of the lines, whilst my dad told me I had a problem if I could recite all these episodes.

And at the end of the night, when we both retreated to our bedrooms, I smiled to myself. Everything was going well. Everything was going to be ok. Right before I went to bed, I texted Troy about the evening, and with that, let myself fall back into a deep sleep.

 _Hi babe, I'm alive. My dad is fine with us together. He wants to meet you – dinner at mine on Sunday. Night! xxx_


	17. Chapter 17

I took a deep breath as I looked in the mirror, straightening my dress before I went down to check on the food. The week had flown by, and before I knew it, Sunday was here and I was getting ready for Troy to meet my dad. I couldn't have been more nervous. What if my dad hated him? What if Troy hated my dad? My mind swirled with worry as I marched down the stairs to take the roast out of the oven and let it rest. I contemplated what I could do for the next 15 minutes until Troy was meant to arrive; my dad had gone to grab a dessert from the bakery, so it's not like I could hang out with him. Despite my best efforts, my dad had dutifully ignored any attempts I'd made to butter him up to Troy, and seemed to ignore me when I told him to be nice. Suffice it to say that this dinner was going to be either painfully awkward, or just plain painful.

Unexpectedly, the doorbell rang. I frowned; no one was meant to be coming for at least another 10 minutes. When I opened it, I saw a grinning Troy leaning against the doorframe. He looked as handsome as ever, with a pressed blue button up and some dark jeans. I smiled, relieved that he looked like he'd made an effort, but not enough to make it seem like he was kissing my dad's ass. If there was anything my dad hated, it was a suck up. He got enough of that work.

"Hi," I breathed. "You're early."

"Figured you'd be nervous, so I decided to come a little early, distract you so you wouldn't freak out completely."

I smiled softly, my anxiety still gnawing at my insides. "I'm glad. Hi." I greeted him more enthusiastically than before, leaning up to kiss him. He readily accepted it, deepening it immediately before pulling away and grinning down at me.

"I haven't seen you in fucking ages, I missed you." He husked, grabbing my waist as I led him inside.

"We saw each other at school the day before yesterday, Troy." I rolled my eyes good-naturedly at him.

"Yeah, but this past weekend we didn't because you were spending quality time with your dad and going to that doctor's checkup thing. I haven't even ridden in your new car, and you haven't ridden in mine!" he exclaimed, causing me to roll my eyes again. Of course he fixates on the fact that I have a new car. A pretty, four wheel drive new car, but still. Troy got a new one too, some manly chrome black pickup truck that I love. He'd been saving up and his mom relented and paid for half. I love that he didn't get a different kind of car; trucks are so him, and so sexy.

He had a point though. After seeing each other every day after school last week, suddenly not seeing him for an entire weekend was weird. I'd caught up on a lot of things though; I moved my weekly session with Dr. Marin to the weekend so that I wouldn't have it during the school week. I bought a car. I spent time with my dad, which was much needed. I also had my doctor's appointment for my birth control, which was an unbelievably awkward experience.

 _"So, Gabriella, are you sexually active?" my new OB/GYN, Dr. Sayers, said as she sat in front of the examining bed I lay on. I uncomfortably shifted my legs, feeling shy without my pants and underwear on._

 _"No, I'm uh… I'm a virgin." I could feel myself getting red. Dr. Sayers gave me a reassuring smile and patted my leg before she gently, but forcefully, spread my legs apart so she could examine me. I closed my eyes, trying to relax, but the second she came near me with some sort of metal tool, I tensed up. Dr. Sayers pushed my knees apart again._

 _"It won't hurt Gabriella; it might feel a little uncomfortable, but it won't hurt. This is just a routine part of the checkup." I nodded, trying to relax again._

 _As I felt the metal come near me, I shut my eyes and focused on my breathing. Dr. Sayers started to ask me about my periods and whatnot, I think trying to distract me from what she was doing. I answered them all. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Dr. Sayers leaned back and pulled off her latex gloves._

 _"Well, you are a perfectly healthy young girl." She told me confidently. "Your father told me that you had a reason you wanted to come to this appointment?" She continued, prompting me to speak._

 _"Oh, um… yeah, I was hoping that you could prescribe me birth control? The pill?" I said it as fast as possible, still a little embarrassed. She raised her eyebrows, but wrote something down in a file._

 _"I assume this is more as a form of contraception rather than a medical issue like heavy periods." She said finally, to which I nodded._

 _"I have a boyfriend," I explained. "And we haven't had sex yet, but if we do at any point, I want to be safe and prepared."_

 _She looked strangely impressed. "That's very responsible of you. I would recommend Mirena, especially considering that you are taking antidepressants right now. But remember to take it everyday at the same time, give or take an hour at most. Try not to use the birth control to skip your period when it's an inconvenient time, which is something a lot of people are doing. It messes up your hormonal balance." I nodded along to everything she said, listening closely to the rules I was to follow. When she finally freed me and I went to meet up with my dad in the waiting room, I breathed a sigh of relief that this whole awkward ordeal was over._

Troy didn't know about me being on the pill. I think it would freak him out, so I'm going to stay quiet about it until it comes up. Maybe not the best thing to do, but I don't want him to start panicking about 'pressuring me' or whatever. It wasn't an argument I wanted to have.

"Hello? Anyone in there?" Troy teased from beside me, where I'd lost myself in the memory of my doctor's appointment.

"Yeah, just nervous." I smiled weakly at him, wringing my hands together. Troy grabbed them, holding them in his hands.  
"Stop it, Brie. It's going to be fine. I am going to get along with your dad, and this dinner is going to go great. Just relax." He pressed a tender kiss to my temple, holding me in the hallway before we heard the backdoor open abruptly. We sprung apart quickly, and I rushed into the kitchen to greet my dad.

"Hi papa, the table is set and dinner is ready. And Troy is here, he just arrived," I said, my voice small as I watched him place the dessert in the fridge. He turned, his dark eyes giving nothing away, and walked into the living room without a backwards glance at me. I followed, wondering what I was about to witness.

I watched as my dad strode into the room, an air of authority surrounding him, and Troy stood a little straighter when he saw my dad.

"Mr. Bolton," my dad said formally, but not coldly. I breathed a quick sigh of relief that he wasn't going to be in an outright awful mood. Troy extended a hand towards him.

"Yes sir, nice to meet you sir." He said, though not nearly as confidently as I had anticipated. It seemed I wasn't the only one nervous.

"Well, let's not hang around here. Gabby's food will go cold." My dad clapped his hands assertively, and we obediently followed him into the dining room we only ever use when it's a formal dinner. My dad sat at the head, and Troy and I flanked him on either side. I dished out plates of food and we all started eating quietly. Underneath the table, I was tapping my foot; why was there no conversation. I at least expected my dad to interrogate Troy, but instead I got a taciturn and stoic father sitting by me instead. Just as I was thinking this, my dad suddenly puts his fork and knife down.

"So, Troy, how long have you lived in Albuquerque?" he asked, dabbing at his mouth with the napkin.

Troy quickly swallowed, clearing his throat before he answered. "My whole life sir. My parents and grandparents are all from here as well, so we all see each other often, along with my cousins." I continued to hold my breath.

"Any siblings?"

"One. An older sister: Lexie. She goes to Harvard, biology and pre-med major." Troy answered, and though he was nervous, I could still detect a hint of pride in his voice.

"And your parents?"

"My dad was an accountant, but he's now a P.E. teacher at East High, and the basketball coach. My mom is a doctor. She was a nurse when we were younger, but she went back to med school when Lexie and I were a little older and could be left on our own. She's a doctor now." My dad looked begrudgingly impressed by all this information.  
"Well," my dad started, "you all sound like a very accomplished family."

Troy nodded. "I guess, but all of us in our own way. My parents have always been firm believers in doing something you love. That's why my dad gave up accounting to teach. He said he enjoyed it more." Intrigued, I listened intently at what Troy had to say. This was more than he'd really ever divulged about his family. Not that I really asked, I added in my mind as an afterthought. "And if I was to ever decide that basketball wasn't for me, then they'd eventually let me leave it behind in pursuit of whatever I wanted to do."

"So you intend to quit basketball soon? Gabriella never told me you were a quitter."

"Dad!" I interjected, horrified at how rude he was being.

"It's okay Brie." Troy said, still looking at my dad, now standing up a little straighter. There was a light in his eyes, and I could tell that Troy had had this argument with others. "With all due respect sir, I wouldn't consider leaving basketball quitting. If I suddenly found that my interests lay elsewhere, like picking grad school over the NBA, then I wouldn't say leaving basketball behind is quitting. It's just me pursuing something I feel I might enjoy more. And at the end of the day, isn't that all you can ask for?"

My dad was quiet for a moment. "You stand up for what you believe in." He noted. "It's a quality that I don't find in many, and it has certainly gained you my respect." And with that, a smile graced my dad's face since we'd sat down for dinner. Immediately, Troy and I smiled back. Gaining my dad's respect was the biggest thing; the rest could work itself out. After that, conversation between us all moved smoothly and freely. Jokes were made. Laughs were shared. I was surprised at how well everything had turned out, but I definitely wasn't complaining.

I eventually got up to get the dessert and make us all some tea and coffee, but I was no longer nervous about leaving Troy and my dad behind. It seemed all was well in boyfriend and dad world. As I was about to go in to tell them it would be about 5 more minutes, I heard my dad's voice, sharper than earlier. I paused behind the doorway.

"Well, Troy, I can't say that Gabby was wrong about you. You seem to be a good guy." I assumed Troy had acknowledged this in some nonverbal manner, since I heard nothing from him. "Having said that, if you ever hurt my daughter; if you step one toe out of line, there'll be hell to pay." I closed my eyes, laughing at the protectiveness in my dad's voice. I should have known there'd be this sort of conversation eventually.

"Sir, I really would never hurt her. I really like Brie. In fact, between you and me, I think I…" I sucked in a sharp breath. "I think I might even be falling in love with her." My mouth gaped open. Holy shit. I didn't wait to hear my dad's response, my head reeling at the fact that my boyfriend was falling in love with me. I mean, I knew I felt that way about him, but I didn't realise that he would already feel the same way. Grabbing the tray with the dessert and tea, I made my way back. The room fell silent when I walked in, and Troy got up to help me transfer the food from tray to table. Conversation eventually started back up, with my dad asking about basketball training, and Troy asking my dad when he would travel next and that sort of thing. All in all, the evening went surprisingly well, despite my qualms. Troy had charmed my dad just like he said he would. And my dad had seemed to like him, which was a feat in and of itself.

Eventually though, the dinner came to an end, and my dad went upstairs after saying bye to Troy – and, I suspect, to give us a little alone time to talk without him. Once I heard his bedroom door shut, I turned to Troy, who was texting something on his phone. Walking over to him, I wrapped my arms around him and gave him a huge hug, which he returned, albeit a little confused at this random display of affection.

"Thank you," I said sincerely. "You were perfect. I'm so glad you two got along."

I felt him brush a kiss against my temple, his hands at my waist. "I told you there was nothing to worry about, Brie." He smirked. "I'm irresistible, your dad was putty in my hands."

I shoved him playfully. "You're also so modest," I said, sarcasm dripping from my voice. Troy's smirk turned into a full-blown grin at this point.

"All in a day's work for someone like me," he continued to boast. "The Bolton charm works its wonders again."

"Ah, but see, that doesn't work for me that much anymore." I countered playfully, feigning my indifference to his admittedly powerful charms.

"Oh really?" he challenged, stepping forward.

I shrugged nonchalantly. "Really." I watched his movements. He was coming at me like a predator approaches their prey. I instinctively took a step back. His charm worked well on me the closer he was. Suddenly, his arms wrapped around my waist and pulled me flush against his body. He looked me right in the eye, and my breath hitched. Damn it, this isn't fair.

"I think you aren't oblivious to my charm at all, babe." He teased, noticing my labored breathing and shaky hands.

I sighed. "I think you're right," I conceded defeat, and I pulled him down for a long kiss. He reciprocated gratefully, his tongue snaking its way into my mouth eagerly. Pulling away, I caught my breath while Troy continued to kiss me on my nose, my cheek, and my forehead. He eventually rested his forehead against mine, and we just stood there for a minute before he reluctantly stepped back.

"I should probably go, it's getting late and we've got school tomorrow." He said, pulling his car keys out from his back pocket. I nodded, wishing he could stay but knowing he couldn't.

"I wish you could stay," I said wistfully, walking him to the front door. He looked down at me, a tender look in his eyes that I'd never really seen. It was as if he was looking at me for the first time all over again, and he couldn't look away. I looked back, entranced, and both of us began to lean in at the same time. Then we heard the toilet flush, and we both pulled away abruptly. The spell was broken, and we both laughed awkwardly at the funny interruption to our intimate moment.

"I'll see you tomorrow in homeroom, Bolton." I said, a smile making it's way onto my face before I leaned up to kiss his cheek chastely.

"Yeah. I'll miss picking you up for school, but this makes more sense. Dad called an extra practice after school, so you having a car means you won't have to walk home." He nodded along to his own words, which made me giggle. "Anyway, bye baby. I'll see you tomorrow." He leaned down and gave me a long hug before he pulled away and walked to his car.

And as I watched his car become a speck in the distance, I thought to myself how things were finally coming together instead of falling apart.


	18. Chapter 18

I could hear a loud whirring that sounded directly like it was coming into my ear. Groaning, I pulled a pillow over my head and burrowed myself further under my covers, trying to ignore the sound of the lawnmower.

"You're not a morning person are you?" I heard his voice behind me. Peeking out from under my comforter, I eyed Troy already dressed and ready for school. Jumping a little, I hid my pyjama-clad body shyly as I looked at him. His blue eyes twinkled as he stared down at me.

"How did you get in?" I mumbled, rubbing the sleep from my eyes as I propped myself up against the pillows. Troy picked my stuffed elephant, Boo, up from the other side of the bed and tossed him into the air casually.

"You should really lock your balcony doors, you know. All I had to do was climb up the tree." Damn it. Troy had discovered that the tree outside my balcony was easy to climb about a week after he had met my dad and he'd become fond of climbing up and surprising me. Since that meeting, we'd had nearly a month of bliss. I had found a balance between him, my friends, and work. He was the near perfect boyfriend: always looking out for me, making sure I didn't stray too far when we went out, and that I got home ok. Except for his occasional temper and overprotective nature, we didn't ever argue and we were that nauseating couple in the back of the room that everyone loved and hated at the same time.

"Sorry; I was finishing up the last of my Macbeth project so I could hand it in today, so I was up late last night." As if to prove my point, I yawned involuntarily and stretched before reluctantly getting out of bed.

"Brie, you were finished with that paper like a week ago. What were you doing editing it again? And, it's not even due for another week!" Troy raised an eyebrow at me, mirth evident in his eyes. I shrugged, embarrassed at my nerdy tendencies.

"I just like to make sure I got everything in there that I wanted. I always edit it the night before I want to hand it in, just in case. And there's nothing wrong with wanting to hand something in early! Sue me for being a dork like that." I crossed my arms stubbornly, and then noticed that Troy didn't say anything. When I looked back up, his eyes were fixated on the cleavage I created when I crossed my arms. Hurriedly, I dropped my arms to my sides and grabbed my bathrobe, flushing under Troy's intense gaze.

"Almost 2 months together and you still get shy around me. I've already seen you, baby." Troy said softly; his tone wasn't teasing, like I thought it would be, but confused. "Come on, Brie, you don't have to be shy around me. I don't _want_ you to be shy around me. I want you to feel like you could walk around naked if you wanted to." He carried on his rant, and I laughed a little, still feeling awkward.

"I'm still not used to this, TB, just give me a little time." He smirked at the nickname I gave him. About two weeks ago, I was learning about infectious diseases in AP biology, and when Troy looked over my notes, he noticed I'd written TB as shorthand for tuberculosis. When I realised it was his initials, I thought it was hilarious and called him that as a joke; after that, it just sort of stuck. Occasionally, I'll call him boo, or even booboo, but that's rare and when I'm feeling all mushy with him.

"Well, now that you're finally out of bed," he started, grabbing my waist. "Happy birthday Brie." He smiled at me, the soft smile where one side of his mouth turns up more than the other, before he leaned down to kiss me.

"Eh, wait till I brush my teeth!" I exclaimed running into the bathroom and locking it, leaving a bewildered Troy behind. I made quick work of my teeth, brushing thoroughly and gargling mouthwash before I showered as fast as possible. I'd washed my hair last night, so it was a quick body shower. I was in and out in less than 10 minutes – a record for me. Swinging the bathroom door open and padding into my room, I noticed Troy wasn't there anymore. Weird. I shook my head and went about getting ready, choosing a light blue shirt with black ripped jeans, an oversized black cardigan, and some knee high black boots. Satisfied with my choice, I quickly donned some light makeup and gold jewellery before I grabbed my backpack and went downstairs.

"Troy?" I called out.

"In here, babe," His voice rang through the corridors, and I followed it into the kitchen, where I saw my boyfriend trying and failing to look domestic. He had already burned two pieces of toast, and the remnants of a badly cut avocado lay on the kitchen island. I smirked.

"Aww, TB, you're trying to cook me breakfast!" I cooed annoyingly, coming up behind him and hugging him around his waist.

"Trying being the operative word. I am so not the cook in this relationship. I've burned the toast, and I can't even boil the water properly to make you coffee. How do I not know how to boil water? It's in a kettle" he wondered, annoyed with himself.

"Here, boo, let me do this; you set the table." I brushed past him and quickly made quick work of slicing avocados on some bread, before boiling water and making us some poached eggs. Behind me, Troy watched and played with his phone, but then put it down when I put a plate in front of him. 4 eggs for him, 2 eggs for me.

"So, let me get this straight," I said between bites. "You got up extra early to come here and cook me breakfast?" I smiled at him as he nodded, his mouth full to the brim.

"Yup. I'm taking you to school too, if that wasn't obvious." Yay! We hadn't done that in a while, mostly because we both had cars, so there was no point. "It's your birthday Brie," he continued. "We have to make the most of it; now, your dad left yesterday, which totally sucks. But I'm here," he said, a cocky grin gracing his handsome features. "And I have got the best stuff planned out for us. Make no plans this afternoon." He demanded, and I laughed at him.

"Consider my schedule cleared, Mr. Bolton," I giggled, smiling at him as he puffed out his chest. Suddenly, he leaned in, his nose almost touching mine; I held my breath.

"I'm collecting on that birthday kiss you skimped out on upstairs in your room." He said, before swooping down and capturing my lips with his in a sweet kiss that soon turned heady with lust. I pushed myself closer to him, barely able to supress a moan at the feeling of his body against mine, his lips against mine. As I played with the hair at the back of his neck, he pulled me into his lap, and I kissed him with renewed vigour. His hand made itself known as it snaked its way under my shirt, caressing the curve under my bra, his fingers splayed out against my skin. I moaned again, less controlled, and Troy pulled back, only to move his mouth to my neck, sucking hard at the sensitive skin there. I pulled at his hair, rocking back and forth in his lap at the feeling; god, was there anything that felt this good? And I'm not talking about the physical aspect, even though that was great; but the idea of being so wanted by someone, so cherished that they hold you so close, not wanting to have even an inch of space between you and them. I pushed against Troy again, brought his lips back to mine, smiling into our kiss. I heard his groan at the back of his throat as we reconnected, and we continued with this duel fought by tongues and tender touches for another few minutes before we both pulled back.

"Wow," I panted, "that was quite the birthday kiss."

Troy nodded. "Left you a birthday present too." I jumped up.

"Where?" I jumped up and looked around excitedly, practically hopping from one foot to the other in anticipation, like a child does on Christmas morning. I heard Troy's low chuckle, the one he usually does when he's trying to stifle his laughter, and I whipped my head back at him.

"No, baby, as in I left you a present _on_ you." He pointed subtly at my neck, and that was when I felt a subtle throb.

"Troy Bolton, what is it with you and giving me hickeys? You are a caveman!" I exclaimed, but I wasn't annoyed. Even though they're a pain to cover up, the idea that Troy gives me hickeys is… I don't know, kind of sexy. Was that weird? Like, he wants me so much that he has to mark me. Hot.

"We've gone over this Brie," he started, running a hand through his tousled hair. "I will give you hickeys as long as your dad isn't here. And since he's not here," he looked around at the empty space, as if to confirm his point, "I gave you a hickey, so the rest of the world – specifically the male population of East High, and even some of the females I'm sure, I don't discriminate – knows that you are mine and only mine." He finished his rant by standing up abruptly, and pulling me up as well. "But anyway, happy birthday beautiful. I'm glad I get to celebrate it with you." He leaned down for a quick, chaste kiss before pulling back and picking up my backpack. "Now come on, the truck awaits."

I followed Troy out to his monster of a truck, and let him help me in before I realised he'd decorated the passenger seat with a pretty blue cushion that I could rest against.

"A cushion?" I asked in question, wondering why he'd decided to do this. He nodded at me as he started the car.

"Yup; you complained once that the truck could use a little colour, so this way, I'm fulfilling your wishes _and_ you can be even more comfortable." He explained nonchalantly. I simply stared.

"You remember that I said that?" I asked incredulously.

"Brie, I remember everything you say. I remember that you love overcast days and snuggling on your front porch; that you love trying out new dishes and learning to cook; that you admitted to hating my haircut before it grew out a little from the front." Without any words to say, I just leaned in and kissed Troy on the cheek. God, I loved him. There, I said it. I'd been denying these feelings for a couple of weeks now, thinking that it's too fast, it's too much. But you the heart can't help what it feels. And this feeling is too much to be just infatuation, too much to be puppy love even. Troy was the one I saw at the end of it all; the one I wanted to come home to when I'd had a long day at work. The one I wanted to hold my hand when I'm old and have to get surgery. The one I want to have children with. He was simply the one. Now, the only question was, when do I tell him? I don't want to freak him out, because this… this was really soon.

"Hey, daydreamer, you still with me?" Troy laughed from next to me, lacing his hand with mine and pulling me from my reverie. I smiled at him, giddy with how this day was going.

"Right here." I said firmly.

"What were you thinking about?" Troy asked. He drove lazily, one hand draped over the steering wheel, and the other holding mine.

"A lot. Partially about what I did to deserve you, and partially about how this birthday is already ten times better than any I've ever had." I said, resting a foot on the dashboard and relaxing into the seat, a trace of a smile playing on my lips.

"What did you do on your last birthday?" Troy wondered, turning sharply because he'd almost missed the turning for the main road. I fumbled in my seat and put on my seatbelt quickly.

"Nothing; my mom made this like healthy fruit cake thing for me" I crinkled my nose, remembering my dismay when my mom made me taste it. "It was gross." I informed Troy, hearing his low chuckle.

"Babe, I don't think fruitcake ever actually tastes good." He told me matter-of-factly, sliding into our school's car park. I laughed, agreeing with him. That had to be a low point.

"I didn't do anything other than that, I've always been a bit of a loner, so I didn't celebrate with anyone. But the last birthday sucked because my mom made me the worst cake. Any cake that isn't a chocolate cake or something to do with coffee is not a birthday cake." I insisted, finishing my ramble. Troy cut the engine and turned to me, pressing a kiss to my lips.

"Brie, if you want a chocolate cake, a chocolate cake is what you're getting, don't worry." He flashed me a smile, and hopped out of the car, before rushing to my side to get my door. As he helped me out, I couldn't help but admire him. Here he was, a 17-year old boy (or almost 17, whatever), who had every right to be the stereotypical jock. You know, the one you see in all the movies: the one who screws around with girls, acts like an entitled asshole, is the rude popular kid. But instead, Troy is someone who opens the door for anyone, not just me; he helps out lost and confused freshmen even when he could easily be mean to them; and he has me as his girlfriend instead of being a plater. Just one girl, and an ordinary girl at that. If there was anyone who didn't fit his 'role' in East High, it would be Troy the basketball boy. Because he was so much more than that. When I got down, I threw my arms around Troy and just hugged him as tight as I could, feeling content and safe against his hard chest, with my face buried in the crook of his neck.

"Brie, are you ok? What's wrong?" Troy sounded confused and a little worried, and I laughed.

"Nothing, nothing. I'm just feeling affectionate today because I have the best boyfriend in the world."

"Really, do I know him?"

"Yeah, I mean he's super weird and just keeps following me around. I can't seem to shake him." I played along with Troy's joke. He fake gasped, pretending to be hurt, before grasping my hand and pulling me towards the door of the school, seemingly eager to get me in there for some reason. When I got to my locker, I saw why. Taped to my locker, were a couple of white carnations; I picked them up and sniffed them, a smile involuntarily finding its way onto my face.

"These are for me? Troy, they're beautiful!" I said, stroking the petals and wondering how I lucked out with such a thoughtful boyfriend. "How did you manage to do this?"

He grinned mischievously. "Being the coach's son has its perks you know. All I had to do was swipe dad's keys for a hot second and that was that." He continued to smirk a smug smile as I admired my flowers. I loved carnations, and I'm glad he didn't get me a bouquet. Just a couple, to show he cares. I placed them in my locker, careful not to squish them and took out some of the books I'd need while Troy waited patiently at my side, occasionally nodding or greeting someone who passed us. I didn't notice Troy's light smile slip from his face, a frown quickly forming as he reached down to grip a piece of paper that had fallen from my locker. _Shit_. It was one of Nikki's not so subtle ways of "making my life hell", as she put it. I'd come to my locker every few days to find a new hate note or insult taped to it or slid through the crack; they weren't crazy, just the usual insults – of the slut/whore/ugly piece of shit genre. It didn't even really affect me at this point, they were just a nuisance that I had to deal with. But Troy didn't see it that way, which is why I'd been keeping these from him as much as I could. Of course, he'd see one on occasion, but I usually convinced him it was nothing.

"Brie, how can you stand there and say nothing about this?" he exclaimed, annoyed. I shrugged at him, not really wanting to explain.

"I don't know, if I say something, I doubt it will stop. And I don't want her to know it bothers me, or she'll win. And I don't want to give her that satisfaction." With a definitive slam of my locker, I slung my backpack over my shoulder and started walking. Troy quickly fell into step beside me, but his fists were balled at his side, one of the notes still in his clutches.

"Well, that's it. It's been almost a month, Brie. And you promised me I could step in. Well, I am. I didn't say anything before because you wanted to handle it yourself, but this passive pretending you don't care thing isn't 'handling it'" he put air quotes around that last bit, "it's just ignoring it. And if you won't say anything, I will. Do not even argue with me on it." He added that last part hurriedly when he saw my game face, ready to fight him. But his look was so stern, his expression so earnest and worried for me, that I couldn't let him back down on this. Plus, it _would_ be kind of nice to watch Nikki be told to fuck off.

"I won't argue with you, but try not to do it today if you can." I said gently, placing my hand on his forearm in a conciliatory gesture. I felt his muscles loosen underneath my fingertips, and inwardly smiled that I was able to successfully relax my very temperamental boyfriend.

"Ok, ok. I'll try, but no promises." He said, and I simply nodded, looping his arm through mine and walking towards homeroom. When we got there, I knew shit was about to hit the fan. Nikki was upping her game, and had decided to sit in my seat, knowing that Troy liked to sit in the seat beside it. I shrugged and found another place, not really caring. Ms Darbus was going to come in and tell her to move anyway, what was the point in causing a scene? But Troy, who'd been amped and ready to argue as it was, was not in the mood for Nikki's games.

"I saved you a seat, Troy," Nikki sang, her sickly sweet voice ringing through the classroom. Near me, I heard Chad gag lowly, making me giggle under my breath.

"Save it, Nikki. Get the fuck back to your own seat and let Brie sit there." Troy snapped, slamming his books down. Nikki frowned, not thinking that Troy would be angry.

"But _Troysie_ ," she drawled out his name, and I saw Troy visibly wince at the nickname he hated. "I thought you could use a change, you know? Sitting next to her all the time must be boring, I'd imagine." She said, still using that sweet (and very obviously fake) tone of hers. I rolled my eyes, just letting the show unfold.

"Her name is Gabriella, Nikki. And don't pretend you don't know that. I mean, you must know her name if you needed to find out where her locker was, so you could have those pathetic pieces of paper saying slut or whore taped to it for the world to see, right?" Nikki froze. To be honest, she was pretty fucking stupid. Did she not expect Troy to eventually see one? He's at my locker with me everyday, for Christ's sake! It's a miracle he hadn't seen them – or made a scene about them – until now. I watched as she slunk back to her seat, which I promptly vacated. Before anything else could happen, Sharpay walked in, her arms outstretched as she squealed loudly.

"Happy birthday!" she exclaimed, enveloping me in a tight hug. Behind her, I saw Kelsi, Chad, and Taylor (who I noticed surreptitiously holding hands as they walked in) ready to say hello. I smiled at all of them, accepting their hugs and warm wishes. Next to me, Troy was watching things unfold with a smile on his face.

"Hey you," I nudged him. "What are you smiling about?"

"Nothing, it's just seeing you happy and with all of our friends…" He trailed off. "It was nice to watch. I just really want this day to go well for you." He was anxious. Even though he was trying to mask it, his anxiety and nerves were seeping from his pores. I felt myself reach out to hold his hand.

"It will go well. Don't stress. Nothing is going to happen; we're going to have a great day." I said. Before I could hear his answer though, Ms Darbus walked in with her usual authoritative barking, telling us all to basically sit down and shut up while she read the announcements. The first half of the day after that went by quickly; my classes went about the same way as usual, but I was given a surprise at lunch when Zeke showed up with a cake. A beautifully decorated, chocolate cake that had me drooling because I was so excited to eat it.

"Troy said you liked chocolate, so chocolate cake it is." Zeke smiled kindly, his dark eyes crinkling at the corners.

"Thank you, Zeke. This is amazing." I got up and hugged him tightly, really appreciating the kind gesture.

"Yo, can we hurry up and cut this cake. I see at least 4 slices with my name on it." Chad shouted from behind me, making me laugh.

"I don't know, maybe I should just wait to enjoy this at home on my own without you there Chad." I said, grinning.

"Oh please, who would help you finish that there?" I was about to carry on with our banter, but Troy interrupted.

"Well, see Chad, I would. I guarantee that if I wanted to, I could eat as much as you can." Troy teased.

"Bro," Chad went serious. "Don't take that skill away from me. No one, and I mean no one, can eat as much as I fucking can." We all stared at Chad weirdly, before I picked up the knife and sliced into the cake, my mouth salivating. During lunch, I got more gifts from Taylor and Kelsi, which they said to open in private as they grinned mischievously at me. Sharpay insisted hers wasn't something to give, but to experience when the time is right, so I didn't get hers yet. Not that I minded. I wasn't expecting anything. In English, I handed in my completed Macbeth paper with a definitive bang on Mr Canella's desk before taking a seat at the back of the class and doodling on my notebook for the rest of the lesson.

My day had been great so far; now, I was just wondering what else Troy had in store for me.


	19. Chapter 19

After school, Troy drove me home and we got takeout from the Italian place he likes. I watched as he slurped pasta into his mouth noisily, laughing as he got marinara sauce all over his face.

"You have a little something…" I pointed, but then just reached over with a napkin to clean him up. "All gone." Before I could move, he grabbed my hand and held it to his cheek for a moment. We stared at each other, noticing the little things. I noticed the little freckle just above his lip, the light blue of his eyes, and the way they were moving to different parts of my face as we looked at each other.

"Ok. Next part of the afternoon: we are going to sit here and be lazy and cuddle and watch TV. Either on your bed, or on your couch. Or," he continued, "option 2: we could go for a drive and listen to music." I perked up at both options, and contemplated.

"Can we do both?" I asked, a hopeful look on my face as I flashed my puppy eyes.

"Don't do the puppy eyes, you know I can't resist them!" Troy pleaded with me, averting his gaze. I kept going with my expression, before Troy sighed.

"We don't have time to do both because we have dinner reservations in like 3 hours." He admitted. "And I'm sure you'll want to get ready, and we have to take in transport time and stuff. So how about this," he said, having come up with a solution very quickly. "We'll chill now, then we can go for a drive after dinner?"

"Sounds great to me, boo. Anything you want, as long as I'm with you." I said, getting up and clearing our plates.

"You go up and change if you want, baby. I'll clean up." He said, taking the dishes from my hands. I started to protest, but he held up his free hand.

"Gabriella Christina Montez, it's your birthday. You are not doing the dishes. You are going upstairs and changing out of your jeans and into shorts and a t-shirt like I know you secretly want to." He ordered, his voice ringing clear through my empty kitchen. I fake glared at him, before agreeing and marching up the stairs loudly. Besides, I _did_ want to change into shorts, because these jeans were pretty restrictive. I sighed with relief as I removed my jeans, feeling the blood rushing to my thighs. If Troy weren't here, I would probably not even put on a pair of pants, if I were perfectly honest. After braiding my hair into pigtails, I waltzed downstairs to find Troy chilling on the couch, watching some ESPN segment about the Lakers.

"Do you watch anything other than sports?" I teased, as I plopped down next to him ungracefully. He glared at me.

"I watch other stuff." He said defensively, poking my side. "Listen," he started, pretending to be serious, and I giggled. "I have a one track mind. Let it be." I moved to cuddle into his side, and he wrapped an arm around me. We pretended to watch some basketball game, but we were both covertly glancing at each other, exchanging tender kisses every once in a while. Eventually, I threw the remote clear across the room and moved into Troy's lap. Behind me on the TV screen, I hear the crowd cheering.

"Fuck being lazy and chilling on the couch," I whispered, before moving to kiss him. Troy smiled into the kiss, his hands already on my back, holding me close to him. Underneath me, I felt him getting hard, and I moved my hand to cup him lightly, stroking every now and then. He moaned into my mouth, and abruptly stood up, still carrying me, and started to move towards the stairs. As he walked me up the stairs, I wasn't idle, kissing his neck, eager to get to my bedroom. He fumbled to push my door open, and then we were on my bed, hastily pushing each other's shirts off because we were eager to feel that precious skin on skin contact.

"Troy," I panted, as I felt his lips on my neck, as one hand glided up my stomach and the other pinned my hands above my head. He ignored me and kept on going for a little while before I rolled us over and fumbled briefly with the button on his jeans, then unzipped him. I made quick work of getting him worked up, stroking him fast and feeling him jerk erratically in my hands before he came about ten minutes later. After cleaning up, I moved up and laid my head on his bare (and slightly sweaty) chest, listening to his heart beating erratically. He stroked my hair, and we lay there quietly – I guess we fell asleep, because I woke up to Troy gently shaking me about an hour later.

"Brie, baby," he said, "time to wake up. We're leaving for dinner in an hour, and I know you like to take your time when you get ready." He said, stretching his arms above his head as he got off my bed.

"What am I meant to wear?" I asked, yawning.

"Anything you want, babe." I glared at him to give me a real answer, and he rubbed a hand behind his neck. "I dunno, something pretty. Like a dress or something. Or pants if you want. Whatever you want." He said, continuing to be completely unhelpful. I got up and rifled through my closet, trying to find a nice dress.

"I can't find anything to wear!" I whined, being tempted to stomp my foot like the typical teenage girl I was. But then it hit me. My mom had a ton of beautiful dresses, and she happened to have been the same size as I was – I know, it was super annoying to know that I was the same size as a middle aged woman. But anyway, she had great style, and why not wear something that she had? If she was here, I'm sure she would want to help me get dressed. Rushing to her closet, and leaving Troy in the middle of my room to get ready himself, I found myself going through the many designer garment bags. Eventually I found the perfect dress; it wasn't actually my mom's – she'd bought it for me, but I had never found an occasion to wear it, and so I gave it to my mom. It was a black v-neck and had a lacy back, coming to about my midthigh. I realised I'd have to forgo a bra, so I used fashion tape before sliding the dress on and accessorising with my love ring and simple black heels. I belatedly realised as I was doing my makeup that Troy had never seen me dressed up – hell, I'd never dressed myself up for anything like this before. Applying red lipstick and fluffing my hair, I grabbed a small black bag and made moves to go downstairs.

"Babe?" I called out.

"Living room." I heard Troy say, and I held on to the railing for dear life, praying I wouldn't fall in my heels. When I finally stumbled down the last step, I walked a little more confidently into the living room, where Troy had dressed up in black jeans and a white button up, still wearing his signature converse though. He looked up, ready to say something, but stopped.

He finally let out a long breath. I stood self-consciously. Was I too dressed up? Does the dress look weird? Oh God, maybe I'd just royally screwed something up before it even happened. "Jesus Brie." Troy uttered, pulling me out from my inner musings. "You look so… so beautiful. Perfect." He said, and I blushed. He offered me his arm, and I took it gratefully, leaning on him as we walked out into what appeared to be a perfect starry night. Cold – it was November – but still perfect.

"So, where are we going?" I ask, as I step into his car without his help – thank you heels!

"It's a surprise, but I'll tell you this." He started. "We have got a night of great food coming up." I smiled brightly at this news.

"Yay!" I clapped my hands excitedly. "I love food." I said, a little unnecessarily. Troy already knew how much I loved food. It dominated tons of conversations we'd had in the nearly 2 months we'd been together. I even told him how I really want to take a culinary course that's being offered downtown this summer, which he fully supported. Relaxing into the soft leather of the seat, I watched the scenery speed past us, a never-ending line of thick, tall trees that loomed over our heads and cast a shadow over the truck as it sped into the night. It was serene, and alongside the quiet music playing in the background from some local college station, I felt totally at peace. Troy, on the other hand, was getting more and more nervous by the second. It was little ticks that give him away. The way he'd tap his fingers on the steering wheel in an erratic rhythm; the way he would open, then close his window, only to open it again two seconds later; and the big tell was how he was almost continually rubbing the back of his neck, the way he only does when he's anxious or nervous.

"Troy," I said, breaking the silence. He gave me a sidelong glance, still tapping his hand along the wheel. "Stop it," I ordered softly, placing my hand over the one that wouldn't stop tapping the steering wheel. "Troy, it is going to be fine. Wherever we go, whatever we do, I'm going to be happy. Because we are together, and that is all I could ask for." He smiled faintly, allowing me to comfort him, and I could feel his tense muscles relax slightly, and we settled into a comfortable silence for the next 10 minutes, when Troy pulled into a cabin-like lodge nestled in the mountainous terrain on the outskirts of Albuquerque. I turned to him, excited.

"I know…" he started. "I know that this isn't the most traditional kind of birthday dinner. I could have taken you to some swanky 5 star restaurant downtown and broke the bank doing it. I would, if you still want to." He said, staring at me earnestly. "But I thought, how many times are we gonna have a reason to go somewhere like this? It's so different, and it's not somewhere we would normally go."

"It's perfect." I cut him off. "It's rustic, and homey, and everything I could have wanted." I looked through the window again, mesmerised. The large windows let me see that there was a real fire ablaze, keeping us warm in the November night. "Shall we go in?" I asked, and Troy cut the engine, climbing out of the car and rushing to my side to help me. When we walked in, I gasped. It was even more incredible on the inside; warm tones of deep red, light browns, and creams with gold accents surrounded us; the lighting was low enough to give off an intimate feel, but bright enough that I would be able to see Troy's face as I spoke to him. As Troy recited our name to the maître d', I took in my surroundings, unable to stop the uncontrollable smile that I knew was permanently stuck on my face right now.

After ordering some hearty, warm food, Troy took my hand in his from across the table. "So, I'll give you the first part of your gift here, and then I'll give the rest later." He said, and I smiled, surprised.

"There's more than one gift? Troy, you didn't have to spend that much on me," I protested, feeling embarrassed that he was wasting money on me. I really didn't care how much Troy spent on me; he'd given me more in the past two months than I could ask for. He'd given me a sense of belonging here in Albuquerque that I didn't have before. He gave me courage so I could get up everyday, be social, and remember that my mother's death did not mean the end of me living. So, as I saw it, whatever material present wasn't comparable to what he'd done for me.

"I didn't have to Brie, but I wanted to. Now, be quiet, and accept the gift." He ordered. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a small jewellery box, sliding it over to me. With slightly shaking hands, I took it and pulled open the velvety top, watching as a thin rose gold chain appeared, at its end a long rectangular pendant. Realising that it was a locket, I opened it and saw that Troy had taken the very first selfie we'd taken in the car all that time ago, and stuck it in here. He'd also had the date we first spoke engraved into the opposite side of the pendant, underneath it was 'T&G' written in classical cursive. I touched it gently, feeling its hefty weight in my hands.

"I love it," I whispered, tears staining my vision. "Can you help me put it on?" I asked shyly, and Troy nodded, getting up to come behind me; as he clasped it, I felt his fingers brush over the sensitive skin at the back of my neck, staying there for a second before Troy let go. I grabbed his hand and pulled his head down, giving him a quick kiss. "Thank you, boo. This really, really, was the perfect gift. It's beautiful." I felt the way it nestled right under my collarbones, the rose gold shining and complimenting the olive of my skin. My man has taste. After that, our food came and conversation flowed steadily. Troy had regained some of his composure and loosened up, relaxed as we stuffed our faces with food. And when dessert came, he'd called ahead and had them light a candle for me, letting me blow it out whilst all the waiters looked at us, smiling warmly. It was a picture perfect evening. I briefly wished that my mom was still alive so I could go home and regale her with stories of this wonderful night, but I pushed it to the back of my mind. Today was about being happy, not sad, and I was determined to keep it that way.

As promised, Troy drove us around after dinner, letting me see all the incredible sights from high up here. Afterwards, when he drove me home, he came inside, now holding a small black bag.

"So, this is your next present." He said, smiling. "I know you love poetry, and you love reading it, but you never take the time to find books of poetry. So I thought I'd start your collection." And with that, he handed me the bag, inside of which were two books. One was a book of poetry by Bukowski, and the other was by a contemporary poet called Lang Leav. I smiled, pawing through the book briefly and smiling, excited to start reading tonight.

"Troy, these gifts are incredible. I love them, thank you so much, boo." He smiled, accepting my hug and kiss; a kiss that soon turned from chaste to languorous, both of us fighting for dominance in the kiss. After a brief makeout, Troy detached himself and cleared his throat, running a hand through his tousled hair.

"So my last present isn't really a thing, it's just me telling you something that I have never ever told anyone before." He started, and I got excited. I love secrets! I mean, I love being in on them, if that makes sense.

"I went through the motions of being the popular kid or whatever for the past almost 3 years, Brie. I did what everyone expected: I made the winning shot at games, made sure to look good always, I uh, slept around," he coughed awkwardly, "anyway, my point is this; I did it all. I did the expected. And it was fine. I never really knew what I was missing out on. But then, I met you. And suddenly I realised how much I was missing. I've been holding in this feeling for fucking ages, thinking it's too soon; thinking that it doesn't make sense. But right now, with you looking so fucking beautiful in front of me, on your birthday, all I want to do is tell you how much I love you." I inhaled sharply at his proclamation, but let him continue. "I love that you enjoy writing essays. That you weren't experienced before me," he winked, and right on cue, I blushed. "I love that you would rather spend a Friday night trying out a new recipe and going for a run rather than getting blackout wasted. I just, I love you, Gabriella. I love you." He said, and at that, I burst into happy, happy tears. If Troy was alarmed, he didn't show it, pulling me into his lap and rocking me slowly. After about a minute, I looked up, still teary. "Troy Bolton, you have made me so happy these past couple of months, and I wouldn't trade that, trade _you_ , for anything in the world. I love you too." I said, kissing him passionately.

Best. Birthday. Ever.

 **"** **There is a place in the heart that will never be filled**

 **a space**

 **and even during the best moments**

 **and the greatest times**

 **we will know it, we will know it more than ever**

 **there is a place in the heart that will never be filled**

 **and we will wait and wait**

 **in that space."**

 **Charles Bukowski**


	20. Chapter 20

"So," I started, as Troy tried to manoeuvre his huge truck into a comparatively small parking space. "Is now the right time to admit that I don't suck at skating, but that I actually pretty much can't skate at all?" I said this nonchalantly, but truth be told, my insides were quaking with fear.

Troy's buoyant laughter echoed around the car, bouncing off the windows until the air settled, a definitive sense of humour surrounding the situation. Easy for him to laugh at; Mr. Athletic Man here could probably skate like a hockey pro. I, on the other hand, am literally Bambi on the ice; my legs are shaky, and when I gain the courage to push myself off of the side, I wobble and flail about before I give up and retreat to the benches by the rink.

"Babe you can't possibly be that bad." Troy had by now given up trying with this small space and had found another one, slightly farther from the entrance to the rink. He shifted into park before turning to see me panic a little.  
"You say that Troy, but you've never seen me. My mom even gave up like two years ago; she'd just let me sit on the bench and watch her glide around gracefully, because God knows I couldn't do that." I said drily.

"Yes, but I'm here now. I can pull you along; look at these guns, gorgeous." He flexed one of his arms as he turned to face me, an arrogant smirk playing on his face; I'll admit, the muscles were impressive – they weren't like, the Hulk or anything (we're juniors in high school, that would be weird), but they were impressive nonetheless. "I can pull you along with me easily and make you look like a pro. Anyway, I'm sure you're not the only one who isn't great; only me and Chad are pretty good, because we played hockey like, all the time as kids." Of course he did.

"Are you good at every sport?" I crossed my arms, feigning annoyance at his superior athleticism.

"My dad's a gym teacher and a basketball coach Brie; I grew up having sports as a huge part of my life." He explained, and I nodded. Fair enough. Plus, it's not like I'm complaining; Troy's athletic body usually had my mind reeling in the best way possible.

We both got out of the car, still chatting and throwing jokes around, and made our way into the ice rink. Apparently, this was the go to place during the winter, especially around Christmastime. As I crossed the threshold, I could see why. The ceiling was adorned with twinkling Christmas lights in an assortment of festive colours; a large decorated Christmas tree had been placed in the corner; and the stereo above was playing cheesy holiday music that pretty much forced you to be in a good mood. I smiled in amazement, loving every part of this place. Even if I didn't skate, there were little carnival-like stalls that sold jewellery and food, and people were milling about. As we paid for our entrance tickets, I looked around, trying to spot people we knew. I saw Kelsi and Sharpay waiting to rent their skates. Well, Sharpay waiting with Kelsi – Sharpay had brought her own skates with her. I expected nothing less, not anticipating her to buy rented skates that other people had worn.

"I hope you don't mind, babe, but we might see my parents here." Troy said apologetically, as if the news might somehow upset me. On the contrary, I perked up instantly.

"I haven't seen them in ages!" I exclaimed, craning my neck to see if I could catch a glimpse of Lucy or Jack in the crowds, but to no avail. Troy chuckled.

"I swear, you love my parents more than you love me." Troy accused good-naturedly, shaking his head as if to reprimand me.

"Nah; they got nothing on you, boo." I said, leaning up to press a soft kiss against his cheek, and I felt his stubble tickle me as I did so. He grabbed my waist and tucked me into his side as we made our way to our friends. Zeke and Jason had arrived at this point, and had both begun an animated discussion with the girls as to why hockey was way harder than figure skating. Actually, Zeke and Sharpay were doing most of the arguing – Jason and Kelsi sat across from each other, trading shy lovey dovey glances, as if we couldn't all tell they liked each other. I prayed that this holiday season, they'd act on those feelings. Same with Sharpay and Zeke, whose kind and calm demeanour balanced her diva tendencies perfectly. The only two who seemed to have wised up quickly (and were noticeably missing right now) were Taylor and Chad, who had become an item so quickly we were all shocked at that turn of events. Just as I thought this, I watched as Taylor and Chad walked in; Chad's cheeked were tinged with pink, as if he was flushed from the cold. But the tell tale sign was that Taylor's hair was mussed up, instead of being perfectly coiffed, like usual.

"Why are you so late?" Troy asked, winking slyly at Chad – clearly, we'd been thinking the same thing when we saw those two walking in.

"I uh… Taylor was late… and uh, the car was fixing…" Chad stammered nonsensically, and we all laughed as both of them went bright red. From there, everyone just turned to get their skates and get out on to the ice.

I was slow to put on my skates, meticulously tying them, delaying having to go and make a fool of myself. Troy had already gone ahead, and was racing Chad from one side to the other, both of them a blur on the ice. Taylor and Sharpay were skating leisurely, whilst Zeke skated aimlessly ahead of them, checking behind to see if they were there every once in a while. Jason was helping Kelsi learn how to skate, since she didn't know at all. I suspected he just wanted to hold her hand and have the chance to be with her alone, and it made me smile.

Sighing, I got up and nervously made my way towards the rink. At the entrance, I unsteadily put my foot forward, watching it immediately slide against the smooth ice. Gripping the rail, I eased myself in; behind me, I could hear huffs of annoyance at being so slow, and I blushed and mumbled out an apology before pushing myself along the rail to give them space to go through. Just as I was about to move, I heard a rush of noise behind me, and Troy stopped sharply in front of me, literally shredding the ice underneath his feet.

"Ready for a lesson?" He grinned. I nodded nervously, and took his proffered hand. Slowly he pulled me away from the rail, and I worked to keep myself upright. "Ok, baby, what are you so afraid of?" he asked, still skating backwards as he pulled me gently along with him.

"Falling on my butt in front of everyone." I mumbled shyly, ducking my head down.

"I won't let you fall, I promise." Troy said, urging me along. "Now, I'm gonna let go of one of your hands; when I do, just push off one foot." I took a deep breath, and did as he said. Shakily, I gained a little ground. Troy made sounds of encouragement, and for the next 20 minutes, tried to get me to skate. When I still sucked as much as I did before, I looked up at him.

"Face it, I suck Troy." I laughed, humour laced in my voice as we made it back to the railing and the exit to the rink. He grimaced.

"You don't suck!" He said. "I mean you're not good, but you don't suck completely." He said again, unconvincingly.

"Well, I am going to let you go hang out with Chad for a bit, so you can race him like I know you really want to, and look around. I don't mind, really." I added at the end, just when I saw Troy about to protest. "Go." I urged him, pushing him towards the ice. With a promise that he'd come find me soon, he skated off to find Chad. I made quick work getting my skates off and returning them, signing in relief as I wiggled in my boots and made my way to the stalls. I quickly found myself immersed in stalls selling gaudy trinkets and little snow globes, laughing as I saw a little girl beg her dad to buy her one.

"Gabriella?" I heard a voice behind me say, and I turned.

"Dr. Marin?" I said in disbelief, not quite believing that she was here. Sometimes I forget that Dr. Marin has a life outside of that office of hers; it's like with celebrities, you know? You don't expect to see them doing something normal, like buying shampoo from CVS or something, or just generally having a life outside of making movies or whatever.

"What are you doing here?" She asked, adjusting her cashmere dress. She looked to dressed to impress, almost as if she was on a… date? I mean, it's not like she's old, dating was still totally in the realm of normal for her. But still, I don't know, something was strange.

"I'm with my friends," I answered, raising my voice so she could hear me over the hustle and bustle surrounding us. "They're all skating, and I tried my hand, but I really do suck at it. So I'm here looking around instead." I explained, seeing the question in her eyes. She laughed merrily, becoming more comfortable.

"That's great it's nice to see you out and about. I'm proud of how far you've come. I know I say that every Tuesday, but still." She beamed at me, as if she really was proud.

"What about you? What are you doing–" I began to ask, but before I could finish, I heard Troy's voice right behind me.  
"Brie, you missed it. Just after you left," he started, and then he noticed who was in front of me. "Aunt Leesh?" he said, confused. Shit. "How do you guys know each other?" he said, looking between us, realising that he had interrupted our conversation. Suspicion quickly clouded his features. Inside, I was freaking out. This was it. This was the moment I'd been dreading from the moment I started dating Troy. How was I meant to tell him I knew Dr. Marin because she tries to fix me every Tuesday? Luckily, the Boltons showed up.

"Alicia, there you are!" Lucy exclaimed. "Oh, hi Troy, and Gabriella!" she continued, noticing that we were all there. I quickly greeted her and launched into animated conversation. Mostly, this was just to prevent Troy asking again how I knew Dr. Marin. Hopefully, he'd forget by the time everything was over. We ate with Troy's parents, all of us squished on one of the tables that were set out, stuffing our faces with sausage rolls and little pastries. All the while, I could feel Troy's inquisitive eyes on me, flitting between my face and Dr. Marin's, who was sat across from him. He said nothing, though; instead, he listened to his dad as he described a new play he wanted the Wildcats to try after winter break. When it grew dark out, Troy pulled me up and said he should get me home. I said goodbye, promising Lucy that I'd stop bye for dinner soon. We then went to say bye to our friends, all of whom were now getting ready to leave themselves, the mirth and happiness of this afternoon still etched in their smiles, and in their laughter. Beside me, Troy was stoic, and spoke only when spoken to. Without another word, he made his way towards the car, where the tension between Troy and I was palpable. Finally, cognizant of the fact that he wouldn't stop sulking or furrowing his eyebrows until he got answers, I spoke up.

"If you want to come in, I can make us some coffee and explain everything." I said gently, quietly. I heard him huff out a breath, tapping his hand on the steering wheel as he pulled up in front of my house.

"Are you going to actually explain, or are you going to evade any questions I ask?" He was struggling to keep his voice calm; I could tell he was confused, and in turn, angry. If I were in his place, I would have probably felt the same way.

"I'll explain everything, and I'll answer whatever you ask me. I promise." Quietly, he followed me into the house, and waited while I took off my coat. I noticed that he didn't take his off, almost as if he was prepared to leave at any minute; it unnerved me, and I took a deep breath to calm myself down. Then, I told him to follow me, and I took him into my bedroom, where he'd been a thousand times before. Pulling a key out from underneath my bedside lamp, I unlocked a drawer, and pulled out one of my many yellow bottles filled with pills. Troy looked at it, then back at me.

"What is it for?" he said. I relaxed slightly when he didn't seem angry, just confused.

"I have depression, Troy. And anxiety. I'm sure you can guess where all that comes from. That appointment I have on Tuesdays? They're my sessions with Dr Marin. That's how I know her; she's been my psychiatrist since I moved here; she's probably the most constant adult presence I've had for years." I swallowed as I waited for him to respond. I saw him process the information, a myriad of emotions crossing his face.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked, a note of anger and, worse, hurt, laced in his voice.

"Because I didn't want you to know I'm damaged goods." I said, wincing slightly at Troy's sharp inhale of breath.

"What, did you think I wouldn't love you anymore? I told you a month ago that I fucking loved you, Gabriella. Don't you get that?" I began to answer, but he cut me off. "I can't believe this." He got up and started pacing, his hand running through his hair. "And what's worse, your doctor is basically my aunt!" he exclaimed, then turned to me angrily. "Do you tell her about us? About our problems?" he demanded, and then carried on ranting. I let him get it all out. "God, do you know how stupid I feel? When she came over for dinner, I told her all about you. Guess the joke is on me, huh?" he said bitterly, facing me now. "She knows more about you than I ever did, or ever will." He said, jamming his hands into his pockets stubbornly.

"Troy, it's not like that." I insisted, moving to go closer to him. I flinched when he moved away from me, feeling a sense of rejection wash over me. "I didn't know Dr. Marin knew you, not for a while. She told me when she realised that we might see each other around, like what happened today. She urged me to tell you, but it was me. I was too scared. I promise you, we don't really talk about you. I mean, yes, there's the occasional question of how you and I are doing, stuff like that. But ever since I found out she knows you, I don't ever divulge that much information to her about us, and she doesn't tell me about you. I swear; please, you have to believe me." I pleaded with him. He sat on my rolling chair, as physically far away as possible from me as he could be in the confined space of my room. He looked up at me.

"How can I believe anything you've said? We've been dating for 3 months now, and you didn't tell me about this huge part of you. Gabriella, I can't be in a relationship with someone who doesn't trust me, someone who constantly second-guesses my loyalty. It's tiring, and to be honest, it's really fucking frustrating. Because you know what the worst thing is? I would tell you my deepest darkest secrets in a second, if you asked me to. I would fucking lay my soul bare to you if that's what you goddamn want." He stated angrily, and then he got up, walking towards my bedroom door. "Because I trust you. But you would never do the same for me. And I don't know how I feel about that." He started heading downstairs, and I rushed after him, getting to the foyer and grabbing his arm.

"Troy please. Don't leave." I begged. "I'll be better I promise, I'll tell you things." I continued, and he shrugged me off, gently wiping away a stray tear. I flinched at this unexpected gentle touch, but leaned into it all the same.

"That's the thing, Brie. I don't want you to do better. I'm not asking you that. I'm asking you to trust me, and to trust that I won't break your heart, or think any less of you because you go to a psychiatrist, or you have a dark past. Call me when you can do that." He said; and with that, he left, while I stood in the foyer, stunned by the words he'd left me with and reeling with the knowledge that I might have just fucked up the best thing I had in my life.


	21. Chapter 21

I sat, stunned, on my bed. I urged myself not to cry. I thought of how I could fix what I'd done; obviously, I couldn't call Dr. Marin – my relationship with her is what had screwed everything up in the first place. No, I thought, it wasn't the relationship with her; it was that I had kept it from Troy. I didn't want to admit that he was right; that I find trusting people hard. But in all honesty, I rationalised to myself, how am I supposed to trust anyone when the person I trusted most of all lied to me and then took her own life? Sighing, I trudged to the bathroom to get ready for bed. Tomorrow was Sunday. I could wallow and have a pity party, and then try and figure out what to do. Then Monday was the last week of school, and Friday was our winter dance. I smiled slightly, thinking of Troy's blushing face when he asked me to be his date, and my equally blushing face when I said yes. What now? Would we go together? Would I even go?

I checked my phone, hoping that Troy had texted me, but no; it was just Taylor asking if I would shop with her tomorrow. I told her I had a lot of work to catch up on, when in reality, I just wanted to be on my own. And with that, I fell into a restless sleep, dreaming of falling through dark skies, and no one to catch me as I neared the ground; just me, all alone.

Sunday came and went; no messages from Troy, no messages from anyone, really. But after my little misery fest throughout the day, I came to the conclusion that I did need to talk to Troy; and I mean really talk to him. He was right, and he needed to know that.

The next morning, I woke up determined. I showered quickly, and dressed in dress I knew Troy liked, because the red set off my skin tone and the belt at the waist accented my butt – dressing to please couldn't hurt right? I was on my way to school in no time, and I knew that Troy usually got in early Monday mornings to help his dad set up the gym for the rest of the week. When I got to school and saw his shiny truck in the car park, I gave myself a pat on the back for knowing he'd be here, and quickly hopped out of my own car to find him. But he was nowhere to be found. Not in the gym; not in his dad's office; not in homeroom; not at his locker, and not even on the rooftop. I was starting to worry as I walked down the empty hallways when I saw him, leaning against my locker casually. Good sign or bad?

I approached him timidly. "Hi." I said, avoiding eye contact and pretending that the brown of my boots was suddenly the most interesting thing in the planet. I didn't want to meet his eyes, for fear that I'd see he was still angry.

"Hey," he replied, and I forced myself to look up. God, he was so handsome. His form fitting black sweater and jeans combo was making me notice all parts of his toned body, and the light stubble accenting his jawline were making me weak in the knees. But those eyes. They were reserved, as if he didn't want to let me in. My shoulders sagged in defeat, as I prayed he didn't come here to break up with me. I prayed more than I'd ever prayed in my life.

"Gabriella…"

"Troy…"

We'd both started our sentences at the same time, and both stopped, waiting for the other to keep talking. We awkwardly laughed, and Troy stuck his hands as deep into his pockets as they'd go. I fiddled with my hair, and then cleared my throat. I spoke first.

"I came early hoping to find you actually," I tossed him a weak smile. "I think we need to talk, because I have a lot to say, and I want you to hear it before you decide whether you're breaking up with me." My voice broke on that last part, and a pathetic shudder ran through me at the thought of going back to my old life, the one without Troy in it.

To my surprise though, Troy pulled me to him, hugging me close to his chest. He didn't say anything, just held me. I savoured the feel of those strong arms around me, hoping that this wasn't just a goodbye hug.

"We have homeroom now." He said quietly, looking around as the hallways began to fill up, as everyone around us went about their normal lives, no matter what was happening in my and Troy's lives.

"Can we talk though, today?" I repeated myself, hoping to get an answer from him. To my relief, he nodded.

"Rooftop at lunch?" he said, and I agreed, hoping that the morning would go quickly. The faster, the better. But, of course, it didn't. It was the slowest morning; I felt as if time was moving backwards instead of forwards, and I knew it was because I was anticipating what was to come. But even as I hoped lunch would come, my anxiety grew. A ball of pure fear nestled itself deep inside me, and after the bell rang, with each step towards the rooftop, I felt that ball grow and tighten. Oh god, I wanted to throw up. What if Troy changed his mind? What if he didn't even show?

But no, he was there, leaning against the bench, waiting for me. I took a deep breath. This was it.

"Sorry I'm late," I apologised, even though I wasn't late, he'd just been early. I just needed to apologise to him, in any way I could. Even if it wasn't the way I was meant to.

"You wanted to talk." He said, looking me straight in the eye. I saw no cruelty there, no hatred; I just saw resolve, a fixed determination to get me to say what I wanted to say. Clearly, there would be no beating around the bush tonight.

"Sit," I told him, unable to take his rigid stance, and he did, albeit kind of reluctantly. "Okay, I just need to get this all out." I said, more to myself than to him. Turning, I faced him straight on, so I could gauge any emotion he might show as I spoke.

"I made a mistake." I started softly. "You were right. I didn't let you in on a huge part of myself. And partially, I'll admit, it was out of shame and fear. Shame, because I find myself to be as weak as my mother when I think of the fact that I need medication like she did. Fear, at how you'd react. I'm not saying it's because of you specifically, but for any teenage boy —hell, for anyone— this is a lot to take in. So I kept it from you. I rationalised with myself that I was allowed to keep secrets from you. That I'm allowed to keep some parts of my life private, keep to myself things that only I would know. And maybe, for some things, that could be true. But this wasn't one of them. You deserve to know that you were right in what you said two nights ago. I shouldn't have kept it from you and there isn't really an excuse I could give you that even I would buy at this point. You were mostly right when you told me I don't trust you." I swallowed, looking up and glimpsing a sliver of hurt at that last statement in Troy's eyes, his expression entirely guarded. I willed myself not to cry, to finish what I'd wanted to say.

"It's not that I don't trust you. I do, just not completely. I don't trust anyone, not even myself. I have issues with trust… knowing that I trusted my mother was fine that day… it screwed me up. And everything stems from that inability to fully and unequivocally trust even the most incredible people, people like you. With that being said, I look back on these three months and I think of everything I've told you; of every moment I shared with you, and I think that there is no one else I know who I trust like you. Maybe it's not complete trust yet, but I have a feeling it will be, that it could be if I let it." I took a deep breath, releasing some of the pent up worry as I watched Troy absorb my words, then carried on.

"As for Dr. Marin, I sat down for a while thinking about how you must have felt knowing we knew each other. Disbelief, embarrassment, anger. I wish I could take those feelings away, I really do, Troy. Because the thing is, she has helped me so much. We don't talk about you that much, like I said a couple of nights ago, it's usually passing comments. At the start, before I knew she knew you, I talked a lot about what I thought of us, what I thought we might be, how I felt about you. Not so much because Dr. Marin is a psychiatrist, but almost because talking to her was like talking to a mom. And I'm begging you to understand that. I swear, we never meant to embarrass you. I love you, Troy. You have to know that. You're the first person I think of when I wake up, the last person I think about before I fall asleep. Sometimes, I think I might need you more than I need air and water. I just, I love you, and you were right before, everything you said. I just needed you to know that, no matter what you decide to do about us." I finished, turning away from him, not wanting him to see me tear up.

"Look at me, Brie." Troy finally spoke after what felt like eons. I didn't turn, trying to remove the tear tracks that were running down my face. " _Look_ at me." He commanded, his voice gruff. I turned slowly, weary. A large hand came to my face, wiping away a stray tear.

"I hate seeing you cry. Please, don't cry," he begged. I just looked at him. "Thank you," he said. "I needed to hear that; needed to hear that I wasn't totally out of line before. I've been beating myself all weekend for yelling at you the way I did, and walking out like that."

"I deserved it," I said in a small voice. He shook his head adamantly.

"No, you didn't. I mean yeah, I meant what I said about the trust stuff, but I shouldn't have yelled. I shouldn't have let my temper and my embarrassment get the best of me." His ears were tinged pink, as if embarrassed to admit that. I sat up a little, more hopeful now that Troy seemed to be talking.

"It hurts to know that you didn't feel like you could come to me about any of that stuff you're dealing with. That you think I might run off. There's nothing to be ashamed of, and it fucking rips me apart that you were too ashamed and scared to say anything about the depression and anxiety. Because what it comes down to, Brie, is that I love you. And I hate fighting with you. And I don't want to break up. I want us to work through this; I want us to get to a point where you completely trust me. And I'm willing to work for the rest of my life to prove to you I'm worthy of that trust. All you need to do, baby, is let me in. Just let me in, and everything else will work itself out." And just like that, he pulled me into his arms, cradling me close to him and kissing my forehead. I relished the feel of his lips on my skin, and thanked every higher power that potentially exists that I had been given a second chance.

"Anything you want to know from now on, I'll tell you." I swore, looking into those gorgeous blue eyes. He smiled softly, bumping his forehead against mine. We spent the rest of the afternoon ditching class and making up, talking like we'd never talked before. I felt like we'd broken down this invisible barrier, one that I was hiding behind because I was too afraid to show Troy every part of me. The parts I thought he might not like, or the parts he might not want to deal with. Everything was out in the open, and I felt like we had just crossed some huge hurdle in our relationship. And as the day came to an end, and we walked to the car park, laughing at the possibility our parents would find out we ditched school, I found myself smiling. Sure, the day started shitty, but it was great now. Troy and I were great now. And I couldn't have been happier.


	22. Chapter 22

"So I'm not seeing you today, then?" Troy asked over the phone as I wove my car through traffic as fast as I could.

"No babe, sorry, I'm seeing the girls. It's been a while, and we haven't had any girl time in ages."

"Well, on the flipside, we haven't had any alone time in ages." Troy's smooth voice slid silkily into my ear, and I shivered. Lately, every time Troy and I had 'alone time' together, and I would do stuff to him, I felt more and more inclined to go to the next step. Actually if I'm honest, I wanted to go to the last step. The final step, you know? But I haven't told Troy that yet. I kind of wanted it to be a surprise, like, 'hey Troy, I'm at a point in our relationship where I can't stand not being touched by you, and I want to go all the way because I'm all in!' Obviously though, this involved some sort of planning on my part. I wanted to be… I don't know… irresistible? I just wanted to look incredible enough for this one night.

"Soon TB, soon. I'll see you tomorrow or something? And Christmas day, if you're not busy. I know you said that your parents do something on Christmas Eve and then Christmas morning, but we could hang out that afternoon?"

"Sounds great baby. Go have fun with the girls. Text me later, I love you" he said, already distracted by Lucy telling him to take a shower. I giggled as I hung up the phone. Quickly, I parked the car, jumping out and rushing in to meet the girls, ready for some good food, good company, and hopefully, some good advice.

"I need to tell you guys something." I said in a hushed voice as I slid into my seat opposite Sharpay and Taylor at a new café in town. Kelsi took a seat next to me, her kind eyes warm and inviting, ready to listen to whatever I was going to bring to my friends.

"What's up, Gabby? You and Boy Wonder have an argument and need us to kick his ass?" Sharpay said, jokingly cracking her knuckles in what I think she assumed was a menacing way.  
"Shar, let up on the Boy Wonder nickname, you know I don't like that." She shrugged apologetically, but then just levelled a stare at me, waiting for me to say what was on my mind.

"I think I… I want to…" I started, unable to keep going. I blushed and fidgeted, unable to get words out.

"Words Gab, we need words." Taylor teased lightly, trying to coax me out of my self-induced haze of embarrassment. I took another deep breath.

"I think I want to go all the way with Troy. Sex. I want to have sex with Troy." I exhaled in a rush, my face as red as the tomato sauce on my pasta. Sharpay squealed immediately, excited, whilst Taylor looked lost in thought, and Kelsi blushed red as much as I did. "Well, say something!" I snapped, my embarrassment putting me on edge.

"Honestly… it's about fucking time! I mean, I honestly thought you'd seal the deal after the winter dance last weekend Gabriella. Cliché, I know, but you and Troy seemed magically happy, and we all know that happy moods leads to happy sex lives." Sharpay said nonchalantly, as if thinking about my and Troy's sex life was routine for her. If it was… well, I worry about that girl.

"Actually, Shar, I think only you know that better than any of us." Taylor said, but Sharpay ignored her barb. She seemed too engrossed by how I should go about this.

"Well, now at least, you can use that sexy lingerie set I got you for your birthday! Told you it would come in handy! Black is just so classy, there really was no other way to go. Make sure you wear the stockings and the garter belt too. Ooooh, and maybe some heels! Heels are always sexy. You need to set the mood, you know? And what are you going to do for contraception? I mean, if you're going to surprise him with this, then how is he going to know he should bring a condom? You are thinking about that sort of thing, aren't you? Because you can't just go into this blind, you know. I'll tell you what; I'll bring you some condoms so you don't have to do it, this one time. What's Troy's size do you think, large? Maybe you should get lube too, because you know sometimes the first time can be pretty dry if you're nervous, and then the sex will just be horrible. Gabriella, are you listening to me at all?" Sharpay demanded, when she realised that I wasn't fully listening to what she was saying.

"Sharpay, I think you're freaking her out. You're asking a lot of questions, and we're in a café, and you're speaking way too loudly." Kelsi said, coming to my defense. I wanted to thank her, but all I could think about was everything Sharpay said. I hadn't planned this at all. I started to panic.

"Oh my god, I haven't planned this at all. What was I thinking? What am I doing? No, I changed my mind. I take it back. No sex yet, no sexy black lingerie, no nothing. No, no, no!" I babbled, scared out of my wits. Why did I want to jump to sex? I hadn't even let Troy go down there, no matter how much he begged. The second that question popped into my mind, I realised already knew the answer. I loved Troy, and I wanted to be with him. I wanted to be with him so badly, to feel us being together in a way we haven't been before. Plus, every time I fooled around with Troy, I found myself wanting to go further myself. So, why not? Nothing is really holding me back.

"Sharpay, look what you've done," Taylor snapped, her hand coming to cover mine and offer me comfort. Then, she looked me in the eye. "Gab, do you or do you not want to have sex with Troy?" She asked, steely resolve in her eyes making it impossible for me to tell anything but the truth. I nodded.

"I do. I really do. I love him." I squeaked.

"Then we go from there. And slowly." Taylor said sharply, the mention of slowly for Sharpay's benefit, it seemed. Kelsi rubbed my shoulder reassuringly.

"Sorry, Gabby, I didn't mean to go crazy, I'm just excited for you. This is a momentous occasion!" Sharpay declared, spearing a piece of lettuce onto her fork and waving it in the air dramatically. I giggled at her antics and wondered if life would ever be boring when she was around.

"Well, will you guys help me? I think I want to do it on Christmas day, because my dad leaves that afternoon to go somewhere, which means I'll have my house to myself. And I think it would be a cool Christmas gift to get Troy." I grinned, glad I had thought this far ahead, at least.

"I think that's really cute." Kelsi piped up from next to me, speaking almost for the first time since this conversation had started. I got the feeling she wasn't big on sex talk, since she was as innocent as I was – it seemed that her and Jason had only just progressed into the early stages of a relationship, and I grinned at the thought of what was to come for those two, who made (in my opinion anyways) the cutest couple ever.

"And Shar, to answer your question from before, I've been on birth control for almost 3 months, which is the waiting period anyway. So I'm covered in that sense." I felt a huge gust of relief that Dr Marin had encouraged me to tell my dad, because now worrying about safe sex was an issue put to rest, and one less thing to worry about with all this.

"Ok well, let's get the bill and go back to mine to talk about this for a bit." Sharpay started. "We only have 3 days till Christmas, and we have to prepare!"

* * *

"Merry Christmas, baby." Troy's voice whispered through the phone, and I felt a smile tugging at my lips at his voice. God, I love him.

"Merry Christmas to you too, Troy. What did you do?" It was just after midnight, and I was getting ready for bed, rubbing moisturiser onto my legs as I talked to Troy.

"Not much. My dad's parents came over today, and my uncles and aunts and stuff; it was kind of fun. I met my cousin's son for the first time, and he's gonna be a heartbreaker, I'm telling you babe." Troy enthused, and I laughed. I love that he loves his family; it really meant something to me.

"That sounds so fun! I can't imagine having a big family, it sounds amazing." I said, a wistful note in my voice.

"Is your family small?" Troy asked, and I wondered how we had never talked about this kind of thing.

"Not really; my dad is an only child, and his mom lives in Mexico with her sister and refuses to come here. We usually visit them in the summer for a couple of weeks, because winter vacation is too short." I laughed as I thought of my grandmother, who rages at my father if he so much as suggests that she come stay with us in the States.

"What about your mom? Only child as well?" Troy asked, and I took a deep breath. Did I want to tell him this? I thought back to a mere couple of weeks ago, when I told Troy that I would no longer keep this sort of thing for him. I had to tell him this.

"My mom… has two sisters and a brother, and her parents are still alive. But we don't talk to them. After my mom died, at the funeral… my auntie Lucia freaked out at me. She called me names, called my dad names. She turned everyone against us; my grandfather, he still talks to me in secret, but he couldn't come see me without everyone else causing trouble. But yeah," I exhaled, anxious for Troy's reaction.

"Why did she freak out? You did nothing wrong." Troy wondered, and I sighed.

"They blame us for what happened. Auntie Lucia… she told me I was a stupid girl for thinking that my mom was fine, and how could I leave her. She called me a murderer. I didn't hear much after that, because my dad pulled me away from him and we haven't seen her since then. This is the first Christmas without them here, actually." I said sadly, thinking of how last year, Auntie Lucia had accidentally dropped the Christmas turkey and we had Chinese takeout for Christmas lunch. My mom had been furious.

"Brie…" Troy sighed over the phone. "That's terrible. I'm so sorry you had to go through that. You know it's not true, right?"

"I know that now, I guess. But back then, Troy… it was awful. It was terrible." Tears sprung in my eyes as I thought of that moment in time, and I willed myself to be back in the now, listening to Troy's steady breathing on my phone. Successful, I finished off what I wanted to say. "But that's done now. My life here, it is so much better than I ever thought it could be. I'm happy." I told him. Belatedly, I thought about why Troy and I had never had these late-night phone calls, speaking in hushed tones and sharing secrets. Immediately, the answer popped into my mind; I had kept too many secrets to myself before for me to be able to talk on the phone like this.

"I'm glad, Brie. On another note, I'm excited to spend Christmas tomorrow afternoon with you. My mom said I could come over as soon as lunch was over, and I told her I was gonna spend the night at Zeke's after. So we have the night to ourselves as well." I shivered, excited. He had no idea what was in store.

"I'm excited." I told him, and I heard his deep chuckle from the other end.

"Are we gonna have some alone time at last?" His voice was husky, like a warm blanket wrapped around my shoulders on a cold night. I basked in it. Oh, he had no idea the alone time he was in store for. I worked to keep my voice nonchalant as I answered.

"It might. If I'm in the mood, you know." I was most definitely in the mood.

"Baby, I will get you in the mood, don't you worry." I imagined Troy's lascivious grin as he said that, and felt a heat between my legs. Damn it, Troy was getting me in the mood just over the phone. I couldn't even imagine what tomorrow was going to be like. My breath hitched, and I knew Troy heard.

"And with that, I'm gonna take my meds, and go to bed. I'll see you tomorrow, ok? I love you," I said, reeling from his flirting and his promise of what was to come.

"Bye Brie. I love you too. And thanks, you know, for trusting me with what you told me. I'm always there for you. I love you so much." He said, and shut the phone, leaving me with a declaration of love that made this Christmas one of the best I've ever had.


	23. Chapter 23

"Now don't forget, I put the condoms in your bathroom. If you want to use them, you know. I know you have birth control, but some guys are big on the whole 'no glove, no love' thing." Sharpay schooled me over the phone as I carefully curled my hair into waves that fell over my shoulders in what I hoped was pretty and seductive, rather than just messy and ordinary.

"I know, Shar, and I'm wearing the black panties and bra you got me, just like you suggested." I said, and she scoffed over the phone.

"Of course, you refused to wear the garter belt and stockings." She grumbled, and I rolled my eyes. I'd made a compromise; Sharpay's lingerie gift was pretty, but with the garter belt and stockings, it was over the top, so I'd only worn the bra and lacy thong that went with it.

"Sharpay, please," I said, "we are not going to argue over this again. I'm not putting that on, it's a little too much for my first time and I'm too nervous to do all that." I turned off my curler and examined myself in the bra and panties, exhaling nervously.

"Fine, fine." She paused. "Are you nervous?"

"Yes and no. Yes, because I'm scared of the pain, but no, because it's Troy." I smiled goofily as I said his name, unable to suppress any of my love for him.

"Alright, well, that's pretty normal. And it doesn't hurt that bad. Just lots of foreplay, and you should be fine!" Sharpay said. "Anyway, Zeke said he's coming over to test some new chocolate chip cookie recipe or something, so I'm gonna go make myself look pretty to see if I can get some loving too!" She teased, and promptly hung up the phone without waiting for my response.

I sighed as I tidied my room anxiously. Again. I was so nervous about Troy; would he want to do it? Would he be surprised _I_ wanted to do it? Would he want a condom? How would he feel inside me? Would I come? After sliding on a simple black dress, I wandered around my house, resigned to knowing that any answers to these questions could only happen in time. And just like that, the doorbell rang, and I rushed to open it.

"Merry Christmas, baby." Troy said immediately, leaning down to give me a long kiss. His tongue slicked over mine, once, twice, and then he reluctantly pulled away so he could look me in the eye as he smiled down at me, his blue eyes twinkling merrily.

"Merry Christmas," I smiled shyly at Troy, wondering why my nerves were coming back full force. Then I remembered. Oh yeah. Sex.

"Shall we exchange presents inside the house?" he teased. "I'd say let's stand out here, but it's cold as all hell, and the weather forecast predicted a huge thunderstorm tonight."

"Very funny," I said sarcastically, opening the door wide. "Come in, Master."

"Why thank you, slave." He played along. "So obedient. Perfect little pet." And then he twisted an imaginary moustache like some imaginary villain. I laughed as his happy mood eased my nerves.

"Ok, present time." Troy said, and he pulled me into the living room so we could sit. I clapped my hands, excitedly.

"Me first, me first!" I exclaimed, running over to the Christmas tree. Troy laughed and watched me, not moving from his spot on the couch. When I walked back to him, he perched me on his lap and took the slim envelope I was holding, playing with it between his hands.

"This is one hefty gift," he said, pretending to be serious. "Seriously, it's so heavy, I don't know if I can hold it any longer." I groaned at his bad joke.

"Just open it, Troy, please." Troy grinned and stamped a quick kiss on my lips before focusing his attention back to the envelope. Sliding a finger under the lip of the envelope, he yanked, and it opened smoothly. I toyed with a piece of my hair nervously, now anxious of what his reaction would be. As he pulled out the tickets to study, I watched his face move from a curious look, to wide eyed awe.

"You got me 3 box seat tickets to the LA Lakers vs. Albuquerque Rovers game next month? Are you serious?" Troy shook his head, as if it was a dream. "How? Not even celebrities can get this sort of shit all the time. How'd you manage it?" His eyes were huge, like a child's when he's hopeful and happy all at the same time. I smiled, stroking his hair.

"One of my dad's clients is also my godfather, and he also happens to know a guy who knows a guy." I grinned. "Needless to say, I begged and pleaded for him to pull some strings, and after I coughed up a little cash and a big kiss on his cheek for helping me, he handed the tickets over and told me that he hoped I enjoyed them."

"Babe, these tickets are amazing! I seriously cannot believe it. Who should we bring with us?" Troy started off, and I laughed. "Troy, there's more inside the envelope." I said, and he stared at me.

"Gabriella, there cannot possibly be more. This is already so much, I can almost say I can't accept it." Troy started, and I just shook my head and pushed his shoulder lightly, forcing him to concentrate on the envelope. When his hands pulled out the next piece of paper, I grinned. I wasn't sure if he was into this, but it seemed like fun.

"Skydiving? You got me a ticket to go skydiving?" Troy asked, and I nodded.

"You always say you want to do something adventurous!" I exclaimed, and then wrung my hands. "You know, I thought skydiving could be that adventure. I could even go with you, or one of your parents or Lexie, or Chad or whoever. It doesn't have to be me." I continued to ramble until I felt Troy's hand on my cheek, stroking the smooth skin there and staring at me with so much love in his eyes, I could barely breathe.

"It's perfect. Like you." He declared, before kissing me softly, a thank you for my present. I coughed. Now was the moment.

"There's one more thing in there." I said awkwardly, and suddenly, I wished I wasn't sat on his lap. I almost wished I wasn't there but was there, if you get me. Troy watched me get nervous, but shrugged and turned over the envelope, letting the small folded piece of paper fall out into his waiting hand. As he unfolded it, I took a deep breath. This was it.

I knew he'd read it when I heard him inhale sharply. "Gabriella…" was all he got out before I started to talk immediately, unable to not say anything.

"I know it seems like a random time. Or that I haven't thought this through, but I have! I thought and thought, until I couldn't think any longer. It kept boiling down to the fact that I love you. I love you so much, and I want to show you how much. I trust you to be my first, and I really, really, 100% want to do this." I pleaded with him to understand. "Don't make me beg," I said, trying to lighten the suddenly solemn mood.

"Baby, you have no idea how much I want this." Troy confessed, waving my "voucher for sex with Gabriella" paper at me. "But, are you sure? This isn't something you can take back, and I'm willing to wait as long as you need me to. We don't have to go all the way tonight. We can do… other stuff." He said, and I vehemently shook my head.

"No." I shook my head again, adamant. "I want this. You have no idea how much. I've been wanting this since my birthday." I admitted sheepishly. Troy just stared at the ground.

"Tell me you're sure one more time." He said, looking me in the eye. I looked right back, my gaze unwavering and steady. "I'm ready." I insisted. "Troy Bolton, am I going to have to beg you to fuck me?" I said jokingly, and that did it. Troy laughed, and the lighter mood was saved.

"No begging necessary, I just can't believe… I dunno." He looked lost in thought. I bit my lip. I know he wasn't rejecting it, but trust me, when you're in this situation, you can't _help_ but feel rejected. I kept my whimper in and moved slightly away from Troy, trying to think of how to get us back to normal again.

"Brie," Troy finally looked up. "Hey, hey, hey," he said, voice soft and warm and welcoming as ever. "What's this? Why are you upset?" I quickly wiped under my eyes, catching any stray tears.

"You're going to laugh, but…" Troy waited, his face serious. He most definitely wasn't laughing right now. "I just… I don't know, I feel embarrassed and awkward about this now! Why can't you be a normal guy and say yes, rather than reject me!" I whined, burying my face into his hard chest, hiding my mortification at our situation right now. He stilled, his hand on my hair ready to comfort me now hanging in mid-air.

"You think… You think I'm rejecting you?" Troy said in disbelief. I looked up at him warily.

"Well, aren't you? I'm literally sitting here, saying I want to have sex with you, and you're saying no!" I countered, avoiding eye contact. Conveniently, my avoiding looking in his eye meant that I was pretty much staring at Troy's crotch the whole time. Oh, the irony.

"Brie, I want to have sex with you. Believe me, I really, really do." Troy took a deep breath. "But, I'm not going to just jump in at the site of a voucher. I just wanted to make sure you were sure. Is that so bad?"

"I guess not, but I can't help but think… I guess I… never mind, it's silly. Let's just forget this all ever happened, order some food, and have alone time later, ok?" I moved to get off Troy's lap, but his hold on me tightened, making sure I was effectively trapped in his arms until he decided to let go. I squirmed uncomfortably. "Come on, Troy, let it go." I insisted, trying to move again. No dice.

"Gabriella Christina Montez, we are not leaving this conversation unfinished. Now finish your sentence. What can't you help but think?" Troy levelled a stare at me, and I wiggled uncomfortably, feeling awkward.

"I just can't help but think that if I was prettier maybe, or more… I don't know, Troy, desirable or whatever, that you wouldn't have second-guessed this decision. And you don't need to tell me I'm being unreasonable, I know I am. I'm just being stupid. Now, I told you, and can we please drop it?" To my surprise, Troy seemed to be struggling to hold in a laugh. "Are you seriously laughing at me right now? Troy!" I pushed against his chest, this time actually breaking free and running to my room before Troy even had a chance to react. Childishly, I locked the door so Troy wouldn't get in, and therefore wouldn't be able to reach me. I felt a quick sense of satisfaction when the handle moved and it looked like Troy was trying to get in and failing; that feeling soon gave way to a quick bout of crying, because oh my god, my boyfriend just laughed at me and we were in an awkward situation, and he pretty much gave no indication that he was going to have sex with me. This was terrible. After wiping my eyes and cleaning my face, I felt the handle of my door rattle, and suddenly, Troy was in my room.

"Don't tell me," I said dryly. "You know how to pick a lock." I turned away then, not wanting to see Troy's welcoming blue eyes and his face right now, and not wanting him to see my red-rimmed eyes. This really wasn't how I imagined the night going.

"Gabriella," Troy said. I didn't answer.

"Gabriella." He repeated, louder this time and maybe even a little angry.

"Gabriella, damn it, will you just fucking look at me?" His voice was angry and pained and frustrated and determined all at the same time. So I turned. I gasped, not expecting him to be so close to me. Our chests were almost touching, and his face looked down at mine seriously, a hot look in his eyes and his mouth set in a straight line as he stared at me. His chest was moving up and down rapidly, as if he couldn't control the beating of his heart, just like I couldn't control mine. Tugging my hand, he sat me down at the edge of the bed.

"You laughed at me," I said hoarsely, my voice a little rough after crying. "After I told you one of my more vulnerable moments with you, you fucking laughed at me." I looked up at him, hurt evident on my face. "You are such a jackass sometimes, you know that?" I whispered.

His big hand cupped my cheek, and he smiled tenderly at me. "Brie, baby, I wasn't laughing at you. I was laughing because you were sitting there basically telling me I don't find you that attractive and that's why I'm not eager to have sex with you. Right?" I nodded, following his line of thought for now. "Well, I was laughing specifically at the fact that you said that while you sat on my lap, dangerously close to feeling my cock, which was harder than it's ever been at even the prospect of having sex with you. Does that make you think you're desirable enough?" He asked gruffly, and I nodded, a little stunned and a lot shy about his reaction.

"Oh." I said. "So… you do want to have sex?" I asked for clarification.

"I want to have sex." He smiled down at me, seeming a bit amused at this whole kafuffle. "But I want to make sure you're sure, and then I want to have sex." He amended, then wiggled his eyebrows playfully at me. I laughed, and the world was righted a little as we felt ourselves falling back into us again.

"I'm sure," I assured him, and then I pounced, pushing him on to his back so he was laying down on my bed and I was straddling him, kissing along his jawline before trailing hot sucking kisses down to his neck. Underneath me, I felt his hardness poke at my belly and his groan of pleasure, and I smiled in satisfaction, continuing my ministrations. After making an exploratory path around Troy's neck, I pushed my hands under his shirt to feel more of him, feeling his abs moving as he took in short breaths. Wanting more, I tugged at his shirt, and Troy got the message, leaning up so I could pull the damned thing off and get a look at him. When his shirt was on the floor and I was confronted with a wall of solid muscle and smooth skin, I licked my lips and looked up at Troy playfully.

"I want to explore," I breathed, and Troy nodded, watching me as I leaned down to kiss him square on the lips. A short one first, and then a long one, his tongue skilfully weaving around mine, and then he bit my lip, smiling as he did it. I moaned softly, and I felt his answering grin as he leaned up to leave soft kisses down my neck just like I did. When I felt him suck at my sweet spot and knew that he'd formed a hickey, I pulled away reluctantly.

"Nuh uh, I'm still exploring." I said, pushing him back down. Troy crossed his arms behind his head and stared at me with a heart-melting grin.

"Explore away, baby, I'm all yours." He smirked as I blushed, but I steeled myself and pushed my hands lower, my fingers following his dark happy trail down until the button of his jeans was at my fingertips. The silver of the button glowed in the light of the early evening, daring me to unbutton the jeans and keep going. Just as I had unbuttoned Troy, ready to feel him hot and hard in my hands, a noise rumbled through the house, and I shrieked, jumping up from the bed.

"Brie, baby, it's just the thunderstorm, I'm right here ok? I'm right here, no need to be scared, come on!" Troy soothed me, and I calmed down quickly. It was just a thunderstorm. I've never been afraid of them before. I guess I'm just a little on edge tonight. I turned, not speaking, but grinned at Troy and pushed him back into his position where he lay on his back and tugged hard at his jeans. Obligingly, Troy lifted his waist slightly off the bed so the jeans and his boxer briefs would come off, and then he was completely naked on the bed. I stared at him a little while, admiring his sleek form, and the way his muscles rippled as he moved. When he cleared his throat, I looked up and realised I'd kind of left Troy while he was in need.

"Feeling a little worked up, are we, Mr Bolton?" I teased him, lightly stroking my fingertips over his hardness, feeling it react and harden further under my light touch. Troy groaned.

"Please, Brie, I'll do anything, I swear." He pleaded with me. Smiling to myself that I could work him up this way, make him feel this way, I lowered myself back onto Troy's body, my fingers reaching for his dick and wrapping around it, forming a tight circle as I moved up and down slowly. With a lascivious grin up at Troy, I leaned down and quickly took the tip of him in, stroking the underside of his member slowly. I loved doing this to Troy, teasing him, and watching him come apart eventually, knowing he did it because I'd worked him over until he could take it no longer. As he groaned a little more loudly this time, I took more of him in, feeling him hit the back of my throat. I gagged a little and pulled back, but then went right back at it. I worked him up and down, stroking the part of him my mouth couldn't get down to, until I could feel his hips jerking erratically, see his fists clench the bedspread desperately.

"Brie…" Troy warned in a low groan. "God, Brie, I'm gonna come. I'm going to fucking come." At this, I worked him harder, and when I lightly fondled one of his balls, I watched as Troy came apart, his hips jerking as he cussed and swore and praised God all in one fell swoop. I crawled up to him and he looked at me, his blue eyes darker and hooded with lust. "Fucking incredible," he breathed, before flipping us over so that now _he_ was the one on top. "Some retribution is in order, I think. Don't you?" I nodded, although I was a little nervous. This was the first time Troy had ever done anything down there with me, and silently I thanked Sharpay for making sure that my waxing lady had gotten everything down there so that I was smooth as a baby's bottom. Troy grabbed the bottom of my dress, slowly pulling it up.

"I can't wait to see you naked." He said, eyes following his own hands as he exposed more and more of my body. The dress continued to slide up, past my lacy black thong –Troy whistled in a breath at that– and continuing so that my stomach was exposed. I wriggled in anticipation, eager for more of Troy's hands on me. After months of teasing, and me saying no, this was finally happening, and I wanted it. I wanted it so fucking badly I ached.

"Troy, baby, please." I begged, urging him to keep going. He smirked at me, but nonetheless kept going, the dress now bunched up just below my bra; Troy crooked a finger at me, instructing me to lean up so he could remove the dress, and I did, breathless. When my dress had joined Troy's clothes on the floor, I looked back at Troy to see him staring at me. I chewed nervously on my freshly manicured nails.

"The lingerie is for you. I know it's a little much but…" I started, but Troy interrupted me by fingering the dainty bra strap, using it to pull me even closer to him.

"This is so sexy, you have no idea," he growled, and then lightly bit on my shoulder, leaving another mark on me. I shivered as he moved to my neck, laying me down on the bed and covering me with his body and exploring me, just like I did to him. His lips continued, ghosting over my breasts, almost surpassing them, before I noticed his hand there, pulling the cups down to expose my breasts, then unclasping the bra altogether before he rolled one of my nipples between his thumb and forefinger. I gasped, pleasure shooting through me, and I arched myself into Troy's touch.

"Okay?" He looked at me, concern in his eyes.

"Oh god, yes, more than okay," I moaned, louder, "So much more than okay. Please don't stop." I begged.

"Gotta tell you baby, I have a feeling you're gonna be a screamer in bed, and that's a huge turn on." Troy said, and I felt one of his big hands tugging at my panties, removing the final barrier between us. I wasn't nervous though. I was too turned on and excited to be nervous right now. My panties removed and placed on the floor, Troy refocused his gaze on my downstairs area, and lightly stroked a finger down my slit.

"Your pussy is dripping, gorgeous, and you're bare. Did you do that for me?" he asked, and I nodded bashfully in answer to his question, and then cringed a little.

"Not to be a mood killer," I started, "But I really don't like the 'p' word. Use a different word." I demanded breathlessly. Troy laughed, his breath tickling the sensitive skin down there, and I immediately wondered what his mouth would feel like there. Right at that thought though, Troy moved back up my body to plant a kiss on my parted lips, his tongue snaking its way into my mouth. His hand rubbed me down there, and I wiggled a little, relishing the pleasure.

"More," I murmured against Troy's lips, and he smiled into our kiss. I kissed him back enthusiastically, but broke away to gasp as one of Troy's fingers probed my entrance and then pushed inside me.

"All ok?" Troy moved to look at me, making sure I was okay with this. I nodded, and he kept going. It was a little painful, maybe a little uncomfortable because I wasn't used to stuff being inside me like that. Hell, I didn't even really like tampons. But as I got used to it, I felt my pleasure build and I got wetter, making it easier for Troy to glide in and out; when he added a second finger alongside the first, I exploded, screaming and biting Troy's shoulder and writhing, practically convulsing on my bed. Troy held me, his fingers working the whole time through my orgasm, and at the end, he kissed me roughly on the lips.

"I'm not done," he said wickedly, as he trailed kisses down my body again. I was still recovering from my orgasm when I felt Troy kissing my inner thigh, working upwards. "I'm going to eat you out Brie," he informed me, "and I'm gonna get you to come again, so hard that you'll see stars," he promised. I couldn't even say anything back, because before I could form a coherent thought, Troy licked his way up my slit, and I lost myself in the moment immediately, clutching at his hair and moaning desperately. He licked and sucked and did everything he was meant to be doing at that moment, his tongue probing my entrance and then his finger replacing it while he sucked on my clit. I don't know how long he went down on me for, but as his mouth latched onto my clit again, and his fingers worked deep inside me, I let out a mewling gasp and let go, pleasure taking over every part of my body until I couldn't see straight, until I was lost in this sea of pleasure, and the only people that existed was myself and Troy.

As I tried to control my breathing, Troy kissed his way back up my body until his grinning face was near mine. "How we doing?" he asked, an almost smug smile playing on his face.

"Good. So… good." I said, still recovering. Troy kissed my forehead, and we lay there for a couple of minutes, until awkwardly, I pointed out that this wasn't sex.

"Jesus, babe, give me a few minutes to recover. I got tired just watching you come so hard." Troy said, but nonetheless moved so he hovered over me, nudging my thighs apart with his knee so he could settle between them. As he was about to start, he looked at me, disappointed: "Protection; I don't have a condom." In a way, that kind of made me feel better, that he had no expectations so he didn't carry one.

"I um, I'm on the pill; so we're protected. But I bought condoms if you really want to use them." Above me, Troy shivered lightly.

"It's your body, baby. I'll do whatever you want to do."

"Well, then, I kind of don't want a condom. At least, not for my first time, if that's ok." Troy smiled and leaned down to kiss me, two soft kisses against my lips and then one of his hands went down there to position himself against my entrance.

"This might hurt a little bit," Troy said, as his tip nudged me down there. "Just tell me to stop and I will." I nodded, already knowing that it would hurt. Nerd that I was, I'd already done research on the internet; the only thing research had told me would make it more comfortable is to be as wet as you can down there, and Troy has definitely done that with all the foreplay earlier. I took a deep breath, and watched Troy. The lines of his face were tight with concentration, as he slowly pushed into me, inch by slow inch. I gasped at the tightness, already, and he wasn't even fully in.

"How we doing?" Troy checked in, and I wiggled underneath him slightly. I smiled, lifting a hand to stroke his hair. As I did, he pushed in a little more, and I gasped again. That was… distinctly uncomfortable.

"So full," I said, my breathing unsteady. But I wouldn't tell him if it hurt. I knew it would kill him that he was the one inflicting pain on me, even if it was sex, so I refused to say anything about it until I couldn't bear it anymore. But I felt it now, Troy had reached my hymen, and I knew that it was going to hurt, if at least a little. Slowly, he tried to move in and out and try to get me used to the feeling, but I was getting impatient, and we weren't making progress.

"I think we need to Band-Aid this," I blurted out, quite unromantically. "I can't bear the tension, I think we just need to do it." I repeated, and Troy's brow furrowed in concern.

"I don't want to hurt you, Brie." Outside, a flash of lightning struck, illuminating the room in all its brilliant light, and casting shadows over Troy's conflicted face.

"It's gonna hurt a little, either way." I told him. "Just do it," and before I had even finished the sentence, I felt Troy give a sharp thrust and then he was fully seated inside me.

"Jesus Christ," he croaked. "Sorry, I thought the element of surprise would help a little," he apologised.

Meanwhile, I had shut my eyes and was trying hard to think of something that wasn't the pain I'd felt as I tore inside. Tears leaked out from the corner of my eyes, but I didn't say a word. I didn't want Troy to know. After a few minutes, I opened them back up and Troy was looking at me. He was sweating, the veins on his neck sticking out with his effort to stay still, I knew. It was natural for him to want to keep going, and tentatively, I moved my hips, gasping as I felt Troy inside me. The feeling was intense, I was so full, and the pain was slowly abating, giving way to a pleasant feeling, although still a little sore.

"Are you ok?" Troy breathed, kissing my face, my nose, and my neck as I lay under him.

"Go," I told him, "I'm good now, I swear." I said, reassuring him. He studied my face for a second, and then slowly, I felt him start to move. At first, it was still distinctly uncomfortable, although the pain was now fleeting; but then, as Troy got deeper inside me, I felt a slow pleasure build.

"Faster," I told him, my legs moving to hook themselves around his hips. "Faster, Troy, please," I begged him, and I started moving my hips to meet his as he thrust into me at a blinding speed. Moving, he got up on his knees, and pushed my legs up to his shoulder; at this angle, he was hitting a new spot, going deeper inside me.

"Oh!" I gasped, and then gave a long moan as he hit something inside me that made me lose control, and made my back arch. "What," I gasped, "was that?"

"G-spot, babe, I hit your g-spot," Troy grunted, as he continued to thrust, aiming at my g-spot continually until I was quivering beneath him. I recognised it as the beginning of my orgasm, a feeling I'd become very acquainted with in the past hour or however long it had been. "Troy, I'm going to," I broke off to moan. "I'm going to come, please, don't stop, fuck," I called out, unable to keep quiet. "Right there, please," I pleaded with him, and he gave it to me, harder than before even.

"Let go, baby, let go." Troy said, gritting his teeth and giving a long groan himself as I tightened around him and gave in to my orgasm.

"Fuck," he groaned again, and I felt him start to come too, felt him filling me up so completely that I wondered how I'd gone without sex for this long, and why didn't I do this earlier?

As the throes of his orgasm ended alongside mine, Troy collapsed on top of me, his head burrowed in the crook of my neck as we both tried to control our breathing. "Am I too heavy for you?" Troy looked up, his eyes still hooded and darkened with lust, his fingers stroking my skin.

"No, I like you like this," I told him honestly, and I did. I loved the feel of his weight on top of me, our naked selves touching and rubbing and comforting each other. But still, I felt Troy move off of me, off of the bed, and head towards the bathroom. When he came back, he had a towel and a small bowl of water. I sat up on my elbows, watching him.

"What's that for?" I asked, and Troy smiled softly at me, his hands gently pushing my knees apart. Oh, my god. He was going to clean me. I moved to protest, embarrassed that he was doing this.

"I can do that," I said shyly, trying to close my legs, but Troy pried them back apart, admonishing me with a quick shake of his head. I felt the soft towel against me, moving up and down my sensitised skin, Troy cleaning me. When he was done, he lifted the towel and left it in the bowl, and I saw a quick flash of red on the towel, and realised I'd bled a little. Oh god.

"Troy, you didn't have to," I told him, as he climbed back on to the bed, pulling me against his body so I was now lying on top of him.

"I wanted to. It's my job to take care of you, baby." He said, and I swooned. I couldn't have asked for anyone better. "Was that okay?" Troy asked, interrupting my thought process, and I looked at him. He seemed… nervous? "The sex, I mean. Was it um," he coughed awkwardly, and his cheeks and ears had turned a slight shade of red, "was it good for you?"

"Troy," I said, "it was the best. I want to do it again and again, if that's any indication of how much I liked it." I moved my hips, and felt the aching and the soreness in my hips. "Well, maybe we can do it again a little later, I'm a little sore. You worked me out," I teased, and thank god, he laughed, moving a strand of hair off my face. "Was it… good for you?" I asked him shyly, now my turn to be nervous.

"Hey," he grasped my chin, making me look him in the eye. "I loved every second. It was more than good for me. It was amazing." I gave him a smile as I crawled up his chest and started to kiss all over his face. "Why do you have so much energy after sex?" Troy grumbled. I laughed, continuing to kiss him, and he began to respond, flipping us over so that I was on my back again, and his sneaky fingers were making their way down my body. Moaning lightly, I lost myself in the moment as Troy and I went for round 2.

* * *

Troy insisted that we only wear underwear to the kitchen, because apparently he wanted to see me like that, so we were sitting down in the kitchen eating Chinese takeout, me in my bra and underwear and him in his boxers. Silently, I thanked God that there was no way my dad was going to come home anytime soon, especially not with the storm that was raging outside. As if on cue, a flash of lightning illuminated the kitchen once more, and a crash of thunder followed soon after.

"Well, this definitely wasn't how I expected to spend the evening. Not that I'm complaining," Troy grinned, a long noodle dangling from his mouth as he slurped his noodles noisily.

"I was ready, and then I wanted to tell you in a way that was different, I guess. I definitely didn't expect it to go so well, no offense." I said lightly, before sneaking a piece of chicken off Troy's plate.

"What do you mean?" Troy said. He didn't sound angry, but curious.

"Well, I mean, I talked to the girls about it, you know, for advice and stuff. They told me that the first time isn't really that great, and she said most girls don't come during like, the actual sex part. They need stuff done after. But the sex with you…" I sighed dreamily, feeling my body shiver with pleasure at the memory. "Sex with you was amazing." I said, and I saw Troy grin like the Cheshire cat.

"Back at you. I know you know about my past, and I can honestly tell you that you were the best I've ever had. Can't wait for sex with you the rest of my life." He winked, and then nonchalantly went back to his food.

"This is for real isn't it?" I asked Troy, stunned by the 'rest of his life' comment. "Like, we're in this for the long run?"

Troy looked at me, a blush gracing his cheeks as he rubbed his neck awkwardly. "Well, for me it is anyway. I don't know if I'll ever want another girl the way I want you. And not just sex, you know? Even if it's just holding you, or laughing with you, or watching you study while I throw a ball in the air. I dunno, I'm in this for the long haul, for sure." He radiated sincerity, and I felt happy tears spring in the corner of my eyes. I got up and moved to sit in his lap, pushing the food away from him.

"I love you," I told him. "So much." He kissed me then, a hard and possessive kiss. A kiss that told me how much he loved me back, and how much he wanted me.

"I got you a present too, you know," Troy told me, and I leaned back so I could see his face more clearly.

"You didn't have to," I said, stroking his cheek, "but thank you." I kissed him lightly, and then felt him moving me off his lap so he could stand up. We walked into the living room, where the gifts had been discarded earlier before we'd gone up to my bedroom. Picking up a festive themed gift bag, Troy handed it to me, and I took it and sat down, immediately reaching inside to see what was in store for me. The first thing I felt was a soft and smooth and slid between my fingers. I looked up at Troy quizzically, pulling the item out. "You got me a robe?" I asked him, admiring the dark red silk. I know Troy likes this colour, because he's told me that dark red looks good on me, and usually if I wear red, he doesn't stop grabbing at me.

"Well, I know you like to lounge around in your pyjamas, but you don't like to answer the door in them because you feel uncomfortable. This solves that problem. Plus, I thought it would look damn sexy on you." Troy smirked, and I tried it on over my bra and underwear, admiring how it looked against my honey-toned skin. Damn him, the boy could dress me better than I could dress myself.

"I love it," I told him, keeping it on because it was comfy. "Thank you!" I sat back down on the couch, Troy now right beside me and leaning his head on my shoulder so he'd be closer. Pulling the bag back to me, I pulled out my next present and gasped, loving it immediately; it was a silver picture frame, with a photo of Troy after one of his games and me wearing his jacket, both of us with smiles as wide as the horizon. Lucy had taken it, and it was one of my favourite pictures. Grinning, I placed it next to me, knowing it would hold pride of place on my bedside table. I kissed Troy quickly to show my appreciation, and reached in for what seemed to be the last gift. An envelope? I wondered what he'd gotten me.

"I know you talked about doing this in the summer, and I thought that I'd get the ball rolling because why not?" Troy shrugged, watching my reaction as I tore the envelope open, and found a letter of confirmation saying that I had been enrolled into the cooking course I'd wanted to do in downtown Albuquerque this summer. Smiling, I looked up at Troy.

"Thank you, TB," I said. "I love it. This is the best Christmas ever." He kissed me lightly, slowly, as if we had all the time in the world.

"You're welcome, Brie." He replied, mirroring my own smile. It seemed we couldn't keep the smiles off of our faces for the rest of the night, as we sat in our underwear and talked and talked until we could talk no more. Then, with the sounds of the storm raging against the house we were warmly cocooned in, he made love to me until I fell apart to the sounds of thunder and flashes of lightning, until neither one of us could see anything or anyone but each other.

Best. Christmas. Ever.


	24. Chapter 24

"So, this is what a big New Year's party looks like," I commented as we stood outside the house. It shone with the many Christmas lights strung across it, beckoning us forward. It pulsed to the rhythm of the music that could be slightly heard outside,  
as if the house itself had its own heartbeat, had its own life force. Taylor and I stood in awe outside the desert house. It belonged to a senior, some kid whose dad owned a ton of property. Someone with power enough that the police wouldn't show  
up here anytime soon threatening to write us all up for underage drinking or disorderly conduct.

"Do we… go inside? The others are all there." Taylor said, not really focusing on me, her eyes still wide with wonder at the sight in front of her. I took a deep breath. My first high school kegger, and it was a big one. I shot a quick text to Troy  
saying we were here, and then turned to Taylor, an excited smile making its way across my face.

"Let's go."

Inside was crazier than outside. That was for sure. A bunch of girls dressed to impress manned by the entrance, ready to pounce on any attractive guys who might come through the doors. More girls, very clearly the seniors, were noticeably less dressed  
up and hung around chatting and generally having a good time; if their expressions towards the half-naked girls were any indication, they were clearly making fun of them. As one of the girls looked in my direction in approval, I silently thanked god  
that Taylor and I had opted for jeans and a cute blouse, rather than the dresses we were originally planning on wearing.

The guys were just as interesting a story. Their eyes were unfocused, glazed over from their excessive alcohol consumption. But, despite this, they observed the crowd (and in particular the girls) with more concentration, almost feverishly, hoping  
to grab the attention of an attractive woman and seduce her right into the new year.

Lost in my people-watching, I didn't feel the hands snaking around my waist until I felt his hot breath against my neck. Recognising the scent of his cologne, I turned in Troy's arms and smirked. "You know," I said, "I could have pushed you off, thinking  
you were someone else."

"Ah, but was I?" he said, his grin loose and uncontrolled. I bit my lip, holding a laugh back at his goofy expression. "What?" He asked, a dopey smile still lighting up his face.

I shook my head. "Nothing," I said, looking around to make sure Taylor was ok and relieved to see she was with Chad, a drink already in her hand. At that, I pulled at Troy's hand. "Come on, I think I want to get a drink." I smiled slyly at him.  
/"You're drinking?" He asked.

"I'm going to ignore your tone of surprise," I said, and leaned up to kiss him. He tasted of beer, and whilst I thought I'd hate the taste, I found myself hungry for more of Troy's kisses. I wanted to get on his level, and I wanted to get on it as  
soon as possible. I knew it wouldn't take me long, since I was a lightweight, and a drink and a half would have me pleasantly drunk, I'm sure. With that, I made my way toward the bar area, where some senior ice hockey player that Troy knows was mixing  
the drinks.

"Severell," Troy nodded to the jock, acknowledging him with a handshake.

"What's shakin', Bolton?" The guy named Severell said, his white teeth gleaming almost ferociously in the blacklight.

"Just getting a drink here for my girl," Troy said, pulling me closer to him. I smiled at Severell shyly as he gave me the once-over, and then nodded, as if approving of Troy's choice of girlfriend.

"What can I get you, babe?" he said, turning his attention to me.

"Ummm…" I bit my lip, blushing at his familiarity. "What do you have?" I asked, acting as if I knew the choices he'd be giving me. As he listed them off, Troy leaned down and whispered which one I should get, his tongue flicking at my earlobe afterwards.  
I shivered as pleasure skated up my spine briefly, then turned to Severell and asked for a cranberry vodka, double shot. He nodded, pulling out a Svedka bottle from under the counter and grabbing a large red solo cup.

Though he was clearly a bit buzzed, Troy had his wits about him, and watched Severell like a hawk, making sure that all was as it should be. Severell noticed, laughing at Troy's expression. "Don't worry dude," he said, reaching under the counter again  
for the cranberry juice. "I'm sober. Got a concussion last week during a scrimmage on the ice, and doc said I can't drink. So I'm here, making sure that everything is good. You know what that means to me," a dark look crossed his face, and I was surprised  
to see that Troy's face mirrored Severell's stony expression, though it relaxed quickly afterwards. I wanted to ask, but I guess now wasn't the time, because Severell pushed my drink into my hands and winked flirtatiously at me.

"Enjoy, Gabriella. And happy new year!" As I started to reply, he turned, ready to get the next person's order.

"Come on, let's mingle," Troy said, tugging at my hand as I tentatively took a sip of my drink. I winced as the vodka slid down my throat, leaving a distinct burning sensation afterwards, but then took another cautious sip all the same. Following Troy,  
we walked into the backyard, where it was more spacious and slightly quieter, so that we could talk without having to yell. Someone threw Troy a beer, and he grabbed it and chugged it quickly, then waved his hand and grinned, asking for another one.  
I grinned as he opened this one and took a more leisurely pull of his beer. Taking a big gulp of my drink, I marvelled at how Troy had brought me out of my shell; I mean, I don't think I'd ever have been here at this party if it wasn't for him. My  
new year's activities almost always included a pint of ice cream and one of the BridgetJones movies. But here I was, with Troy at my side and mingling with all of these people who somehow knew my name, and actually seemed interested in me. I  
smiled, cracked jokes with them, laughed, and continually took increasingly large sips of my drink, and then realised it was all gone.

"Oh!" I exclaimed, and Troy turned to me. "My drink is all gone!" I said, and turned quickly towards the house. "I'm going to go get another one!" I smiled giddily at Troy, and knew that my alcohol had started to hit me.

In all truth, I probably didn't need another one, but with the alcohol flowing through my veins and a goofy feeling coming over me, nothing sounded better than another drink. Troy caught up to me quickly, leading me to the bar and asking Severell, who  
was still there and still smiling, for another drink—for him and myself this time. Quickly, we downed our drinks, grinning at each other. Grabbing at Troy's hand, I pulled him close to me, standing on my tiptoes so I could yell into his ear.

"Wanna dance?" I asked, as the strains of a radio top 40 hit blasted through the speakers. A feral smile crossed Troy's features, and he led me to the dance floor, finding us a space to squeeze into and pulling me flush against his body, grinding against  
my behind. I did the same, waving my hands in the air happily. I didn't care if I looked dumb, or if other people were staring. Right now, the beat was electric, and Troy was holding me, and there was nothing but pleasure and elation coursing through  
my body, making me adventurous. I grinded slowly against Troy, feeling his erection at my back as I danced, and suddenly, he had turned me so I was facing him now. He didn't hesitate even a moment, swooping down for a kiss so quickly that our teeth  
clashed briefly. His tongue slicked against mine, his hands roaming down my back and landing at my butt. I moaned, letting the heady feeling of pleasure come over me, basking in it. When I pulled back to take a breath, Troy's mouth moved to my neck,  
and I felt him lick and suck, marking me in front of all these people. But no one was looking; in fact, all around us, the same thing was happening. Boy and girl making out on the dance floor, boy and girl grinding, boy and girl generally having a  
great time.

"Let's go," I said, pulling Troy to his feet, and dragging him off the dance floor. He followed me, shielding me from other guys, and hiding his erection by pressing me close to his body; several of his teammates slapped his hand or his back as we passed,  
and he just grinned at them. I pushed through the crowd impatiently, trying to find a space.

"What are the chances," I said, once we found somewhere quieter to stand, "that there's a room free right now?" I nuzzled his neck, palmed his crotch, unable to quiet the need pulsing inside me. Troy groaned.

"We have my car, outside." He said, dragging me out quickly. We ran for it, passing a girl who was puking in the bushes, her friend holding her hair back. Beside them, another couple was laying down, the girl straddling the guy as she leaned down to kiss  
him. Troy took no notice of them as he tried to find the car. Clicking the key, he heard the familiar 'bleep' that signalled he'd unlocked his truck, and then dragged me towards it even faster than before. I giggled at his ferocity, at his eagerness  
to have me there. To my surprise, he didn't open the driver's door, but opened up the backseat, pushing me into it and clambering in beside me. Pulling me onto his lap, we kissed as if we'd never kissed before. Ferociously, passionately, tongues fighting  
for dominance and hands roaming against each other. As he was pulling my shirt off, a loud bang startled us both, and we pulled back. Fireworks lit up the sky, casting everything below it in brilliant light. I turned to Troy, watching as his face  
lit up in blue, green, gold, then red.

"Happy New Year, Troy." I smiled, leaning down to give him a chaste kiss, feeling my drunkenness rescind slightly as I took in the moment.

"Happy New Year, Brie. I love you." Troy said, leaning up to give me a longer kiss. I smiled into it, playing with his hair, and as he moved me so I was laying under him, and so that we could make love, I basked in the feeling that this was the best way  
to start a new year. With the person I loved the most, feeling loved, and being made love to.

* * *

Someone was knocking loudly on the window. Repeatedly. Sleepily, I raised my head from Troy's chest, groaning slightly as I felt a slight hangover setting in. I put my head back down, only for that incessant knocking to start up again, so I looked back  
up, only to shriek loudly as I saw Chad and Taylor's faces grinning and pressed up against our windows. Troy woke up, startled by my loud screech and instantly alert.

"What is it?" He demanded, and I pointed behind him, to where our friends were still standing and grinning their fool heads off. Turning, he laughed when he saw Chad, but his face quickly contorted into fierce protectiveness as he shielded me from view,  
grabbing his hoodie and throwing it over me. "Damn it, Brie, we should have put some goddamn clothes on," he swore again, reaching for his boxers on the floor while I quickly donned his hoodie, thanking God that it covered all the essentials. When  
Chad knocked again this time, Troy rolled the window down, annoyed.

"Dude, you can't just stand there and fucking stare at us while we're naked. At my _naked_ girlfriend." Troy emphasised, shaking his head.

"I was there for like less than five minutes. And don't worry, I wasn't ogling her. I have Taylor to stare at," he said smugly, while Taylor blushed and fidgeted next to him. She quickly recovered, smacking him lightly on the back of his head.

"Ignore him," she said, admonishing him again with a quick glare. "We were knocking because the cops have just showed up, and are in the process of writing people up. As in, we have to leave now." She urged. "Since Gabby and I took an Uber to get here,  
and Chad came with you Troy, you're our ride. So, let us in so we can get the hell out of here. I so do not need a police record. Do you know what Yale would think of me?" And with that, we all scrambled frantically, Troy and Chad getting in the front  
and starting up the car quickly. We were off in less than a minute, leaving the glowing police lights behind us as we sped down the highway that would take us back to suburban Albuquerque. 

"Where are we headed?" Chad asked. "Personally, the only place I know at 3am that's open for food is this greasy diner in downtown Albuquerque. They make the best pancakes known to man." He grinned, and I laughed. Of course he was thinking of food.  
/"I'm down for pancakes," I agreed, then piped up again. "We can eat then go back to mine and crash for a few hours; my dad isn't home till like one in the afternoon at the earliest." At that, Chad nodded eagerly.

"Perfect," he enthused, "food, then sleep without having to face my parent's questions. I'm telling them I'm sleeping at yours by the way Troy." He said, relaxing into his seat and plugging his phone into the aux cord so he could blast some rap music.  
As he and Troy made plans to avoid their parent's wraths, I settled quietly into the backseat, closing my eyes as we made our way to the diner. Chad was right. They do have the best pancakes, and I devoured mine hungrily, before giving the rest to  
Chad, who ate everybody's leftovers with gusto and appreciation.

We were at mine within the hour and I had just settled Chad and Tay in the guest room, and was ready to crawl into my warm bed. Stripping Troy's hoodie as I went and grabbing an old t-shirt as fast as I could, I snuggled under the warm covers, and  
felt Troy yank me against his warm body, kissing my neck. The boy was insatiable. I smiled sleepily, feeling a touch of arousal as his hand travelled south of my body, but quickly stopped it in its tracks.

"No," I warned, and he sighed against my neck. "We're honestly both too tired for sex Troy, and it's bad enough we're in the same bed. Imagine the worst case scenario, where we're naked and my dad walks in. This way, at least we're clothed and look like  
we just snuggled." I said, and Troy nodded, resigned to his no-sex fate.

"You're right. As usual," he said, and poked me in the ribs. I giggled, lightly, then turned in his arms to kiss him quickly, before turning around again to go to bed.

"Brie? You think lunch tomorrow is gonna be weird?" he asked quietly, his voice hardly a whisper, his expression shrouded in the dark of my room.

"Why would it be?" I asked, wiggling my bottom against his crotch teasingly, and hearing his answering groan. "Our parents have met, and they liked each other. What can be the worst that could happen?" I shrugged.

"Well, Aunt Alicia is gonna be there." He said cautiously, and I stiffened against him. What? I didn't know that. "Mom invited her a couple of days ago; Leesh was meant to go see her parents for New Year's, but had a last minute change of plans, and my  
mom felt bad leaving her alone on the first day of the year." Troy explained, his broad shoulders moving to hug me closer to him.

"Well," I deliberated, "the worst thing would have been if you still didn't know that I knew who she was. Which you do now. So I'm okay with it, I don't think it'll be awkward. Dr. Marin is chill." I shrugged. "She barely knows my dad though, that's probably  
the only thing that might make it remotely awkward; but then again, both of them are good in social situations, so it'll be fine." I said confidently, trying to stay optimistic. What's that saying? New year, new me? Go figure.

"You're right. It'll all be fine." Troy reiterated sleepily, his breath evening out as he fell into a slumber.

* * *

The next day, my house was a bustle of activity, as Taylor and Chad got rid of any evidence they were ever in the guest room, and Troy and I got ready for a late lunch at his. We were waiting for my dad, who was about to arrive any minute to follow us  
to Troy's house. Chad and Taylor left just in time, getting in the uber five minutes before my dad's car pulled up at the front of the house. We walked together towards the front door, and I moved forward to give my dad a hug as he got to the porch.

"Happy new year, papa!" I said, kissing him on both cheeks and hugging him tightly. He hugged me back, holding me close to him.

"Happy new year my beautiful Gabriella." He beamed at me. "You too, Troy." He said, looking over my shoulder to where Troy awkwardly stood behind us. Troy nodded, saying it back to my dad before offering to take his suitcase inside. Leaving it by the  
front door, my dad left us quickly to freshen up in the bathroom, and in a matter of minutes, we were out the front door and headed to Troy's. In the car, I readied myself for what was to come, not just at lunch, but for the entire year.


	25. Chapter 25

"Happy New Year!" Lucy beams at me as she opens the door, and I move to give her a hug before passing and greeting the others. My dad shakes Robert's hand, and Troy hugs his family while my dad puts his arm around me and smiles as he watches the family exchange pleasantries and words of love. Dr. Marin arrives too, and we say hello, a faint blush coming onto her cheeks as she greets my father. I fidget awkwardly; please tell me that my therapist is not falling for my dad. This could not be any weirder.

Correction: upon my father's miserable attempt at flirting with her, and then stammering out a compliment, I inwardly groan. _Now_ , it couldn't be weirder.

"Lucy, do you need any help in the kitchen?" I offer; anything to get away from the situation I am currently witnessing. She nods, all business, and I join her, quickly being given the task of chopping up vegetables for the salad.

"What's up babe?" Troy asks, and I feel him looking at me, an easy grin crossing his face. Shrugging, I tell him about Dr. Marin and my dad, and he sniggers. "No offence, but that is a little weird." He confesses, stealing a carrot from the chopping board. "But, I mean, it's not bad, is it? Aunt Alicia has been alone for a long time, and I feel like this could be good for her you know?" I nod absently, and resolve not to think any more about the matter unless something actually comes of it. I mean, for all I know, it could just be flirting and nothing more, and there isn't a point making a big deal out of that. Lucy returns to the kitchen to put the finishing touches to the food, and begins to move it to the dining table.

Soon, we all move to the dining room, as supper has been laid out, and my stomach rumbles in appreciation. Lucy has outdone herself. A roast turkey proudly sits at the centre of the table, with mashed potatoes and peas and gravy and cornbread flanking it. Immediately, the food starts getting passed around, and we all lose ourselves in the food, the conversation slowing down as people eat. But conversation in this atmosphere isn't needed. Everyone is happy, and enjoying each other's' company, and I relax as I enjoy my food and the people here.

When the meal is over, and everyone is shaking hands goodbye, my dad said that I'm free to stay here for a little, and I feel Troy poking me in the ribs, urging me to stay. I agree, and tell my dad I'll be home later. So saying, Troy and I thank Lucy for the meal, and he grabs my hand to drag me out to his car. 

"I thought maybe we could just go for a drive; I've pretty much got a full tank of gas and we have all the time in the world. Just me and you and the road." He grins, and I cave. I can never say no when he's like this, and I know that I would follow this boy to the end of the universe if he would just flash me that smile again.

As we drive along the highway, a memory sparks, and I remember that I wanted to ask Troy about this last night. "Troy," I broach carefully, "last night, when we were at the bar talking to Severell, what did he mean when he said 'you know what it means to me'." Troy's face grows uncomfortable, but I mistake his discomfort for confusion, or maybe he forgot as he had been drunk, so I continue. "You know, when you were watching him prepare my drink, making sure it wasn't spiked and stuff. And Severell said: you know what it means to me." I prompt, and Troy sighs.

"I know what you were referring to, Brie. It's just not a great story. You sure you want to hear it?" his fingers tap a nervous beat against the steering wheel, and I say yes, I do want to hear it. What can I say? I'm curious.

"Ok, so, Severell used to date this girl last year, before you moved here. A girl from our grade." Troy began cautiously. "Abby Wheeler. She was a quiet girl, blonde, pretty. Really, really nice actually. She was the community service leader at East High, and her and Severell actually met when the entire hockey team was busted for drinking in early September and had to do community service to make up for it. They were a quiet couple; she wasn't really big on going out, but for him, she would sometimes. She wasn't socially awkward or anything, in fact everyone pretty much got along with her. And Severell, well, he was always protective of her. I told you, babe, he's good people." I nod along to the story, waiting for him to explain Severell's comment. "Anyway, she went to a party with Severell last April, I think. It was a huge party; people from other schools came, and I'd never seen so much alcohol in one place. So the story goes that Severell came with Abby, and she decided to let her hair down and have a few drinks for once. He watched her at the start of the night to make sure she was good, but eventually they were both mingling with different people, and he didn't always see when she went back for a drink. The next thing he knows, he's looking for her all over this huge ass house, and he's frantic because he can't find her anywhere. He apparently texted her and called her, but there was no answer." Troy's voice grows sombre, and I feel my stomach turn. I pray that this story doesn't go where I think it's headed.

"Eventually, Severell tries a locked room. He said it was the only room in the house he hadn't checked at this point, and he broke down the door, he was so desperate. Abby was there. But her pants were around her ankles, and she had bruises on her thighs, and she was barely conscious. Severell freaked out, called the police and had the whole party busted." I close my eyes, paling. "When the police came, they took Abby to the hospital immediately, but they never caught the guy. Turns out someone at the party had slipped GHB into her drink and raped her. Severell was distraught; blamed himself. And the worst part? Abby was traumatised. She couldn't even walk alone, it always had to be with a girl." When I looked at him with a question in my eyes, he nodded grimly. "Yup, she wouldn't even talk to Severell. I don't wanna say she's scared of him, but I think she's just terrified of all men in general. She's taking a year out of school, staying at some institution I think. Her parents won't let Severell see her; they think he'd make it worse. He understands, I think, but I also think he really misses her. I don't think I've seen him get drunk even once since then."

"That's…. That's awful." I whisper, appalled. "How can someone do that?" I feel so bad for this girl. God, I feel so bad for Severell. What an awful thing to happen. Troy just nods, and we're both silent for a while, lost in our own thoughts. 

Eventually, conversation starts up again, and we make sure to stick to safer topics; lighter topics not laden with grief and sadness. We discuss Troy's championship game; he's modest, pretending he doesn't know he'll get joint MVP with Chad, when we both know he will.

"Come on," I tease, "Aren't you the least bit excited about this?" I prompt.

"I dunno," he shrugs, feigning nonchalance, but his voice betrays him. "I mean, it's a lot of pressure, you know? It's my ticket to a college scholarship, Brie. College scouts are gonna be there. I know I'm just a junior, but this is when they'll start to seriously recruit people. I guess I'm nervous. What if I don't cut it?" he makes a wide U-turn, starting us on the journey back to our houses.

"You will, Troy. I don't know much about basketball, but I know that if college scouts are coming to see you play, then that means you're worthy, no matter what you think. And, if you play your heart out, like I know you do every time you step foot on the court, then they'll see what I see, no matter whether you win or lose." I am confident in his ability.

"Oh yeah? What's that?" he inquires.

"They'll see that you love this game, Troy Bolton. They'll see that you're a team player, that you're a leader, and that basketball is a part of you. They'll see that you play with your heart and not just your body. And when they see that, then you can bet your ass they will want to recruit you. And in the off chance that they're blind and don't see it, they aren't worth even an iota of your time." I tell him confidently.

He smiles shyly at me, then reaches over to twine our hands together. "Love you." He says, and I say it back, leaning over to kiss his cheek chastely. As we drive down the road, I feel a calm settle over me and rejoice in the fact that this is going to be a good year. I just know it.


	26. Chapter 26

**IMPORTANT: Author's note**

I realise now, thanks to the messages of some insightful readers and a reread of this story myself, that I have somewhat digressed from the story's original plotline. A truly important part of this story is the very real struggle with depression and anxiety that our protagonist experiences. In a day and age where mental health is increasingly important, I wanted to convey that things going very well in someone's life (much like Gabriella's does as the story progresses) is not a panacea for depression and anxiety. Like everyone else in the world, people go through days where sadness unfortunately triumphs over the joys of life. Yes, this story is about a regular girl who experiences the extraordinary joys of her first and greatest love; that is the main plotline, undoubtedly. But, it's also a journey of self-discovery and understanding, of a recognition of Gabriella's issues and how she comes to terms with it; it's about how those struggling with mental health fight an uphill battle against themselves and become stronger people—and indeed, the most extraordinary people you could imagine. So saying, this chapter is my effort at conveying the struggles of mental health; this type of story might not appeal to you, but it is nevertheless an important story to tell. Thank you to those who read.

* * *

The clock flashes in the darkness of my room, casting a brilliant light for a brief moment.

3am. I'm wide awake. I lie in bed, staring at the ceiling, and suddenly, I cannot breathe. I feel myself come out of my skin, and the mirror by my bed reflects me. A crueller reflection of myself is staring back at me. She looks like me, but she is not me. Or I am not me. I'm not sure. I'm overwhelmed, feeling lost.

"You thought you were all better didn't you? Shiny, new Gabriella with a shiny, new life." My reflection smirks vindictively at me, and I close my eyes. _It's all in your head, it's all in your head._ "You're right you know; it is all in your head." I hear the malice in her voice, feel her—feel _my—_ vindictive wrath come down on me. "We are one and the same. You don't get to move on with your life and pretend last year didn't happen when we both know everything was your fault." A dull ache is forming in my chest. I can't breathe.

"You're wrong." I tell her. I tell me. "I couldn't have stopped mama. One way or the other she would have done it." I parrot Dr. Marin's words, and I stop to think that I am not sure who I'm trying to convince: myself, or this cruel apparition of myself.

"Wrong." My apparition snarls viciously. "It is all you. You think your life started here in Albuquerque, with your happy little therapist and your happy little boyfriend? It didn't. You had a life before that. And you. Screwed. Up." The dull ache increases, the pain tightening my chest and making it difficult to breathe. "See? That pain? That is what you should be feeling. Because before you moved here, don't forget what you did. You cost your mother her life. _You_ did that. So don't forget what you did." And suddenly she lunges towards me, and I feel myself falling back into a restless slumber, tossing and turning until the alarm clock beeps again.

9am. I am supposed to wake up now. Have breakfast; change. Do something. But I can't. I have fallen into a dark abyss, and it is too hard to climb it. I stay in bed. My phone beeps with incoming messages. I don't know who it is. I don't care. I am alone. My mind is still running in circles. _Don't forget what you did_. The thought rattles uncomfortably in my head. I don't forget. I don't ever forget. With that, I make the first movement of the day, my steps shaky as I enter my bathroom to retch and vomit until there is nothing left of me. A deep fatigue washes over me, and I crawl back under my bedcovers, trying to forget about the day, about everything. But I don't, because I don't forget what I did.

1pm. My phone is ringing, and I decline the call. I'm alone. There's homework to be done; a routine to be followed; but I do not have the strength to do it. My phone rings with messages again, and frustrated, I turn it off entirely. I do not want interaction today. I don't deserve interaction. I don't deserve _anything_. _Don't forget what you did_. The things that I had shoved away painfully to the back of my mind had reared their ugly heads. I'm alone in the darkness of my room, and I allow my pain to swallow me whole.

3pm. I'm unbearably cold; the shivers wracking my body, I know, are from guilt more than anything else. I want to die. _Don't forget what you did_. Maybe I did forget; maybe, for a couple of brief months, I forgot about the world of pain I had brought on myself. What I had done to my own mother, my own flesh and blood. I let myself revel in the new experiences I got to enjoy, and relished in the person I thought I was becoming. But I'm not forgetting now. I am alone in this hell, and I brought it all upon myself. I deserve to be here.

4pm. I hear a rattling at my window, and I startle awake. A knock sounds, and I know it's Troy, hear his voice telling me to open up. It is the worry in his voice that gets me out of my bed, slowly walking towards my balcony. Pulling the curtain back, I cringe as a sliver of sunlight shines through the clouds and into my room. When I unlock the door, I turn quickly back to my bed and delve into the warm covers, creating a cocoon of warmth around my body. I can hear Troy talking, but I can't bring myself to say anything. I have nothing to say. _Don't forget what you did_. I don't. And this remembrance of my past has stolen the words from my mouth.

"Brie?" Troy tries again, and I hear the concern in his voice. After a moment's hesitation, I feel him pull back my covers and come behind me, his arms trying to pull me against his chest. I go unwillingly, not yielding to his warmth and love. Because I don't deserve it. Undeterred, his hands stroke my back soothingly, but I can't get myself to relax.

"Come on baby, talk to me. What's going on? Are you sick?" he urges me to speak, and I sigh. "Is it your period?" he asks, awkwardness seeping into his tone. A weak smile tugs at my lips, but doesn't form.

"I just want to be alone." I mumble, my voice a whisper in the dark, so soft and low that Troy could have missed it if he wasn't so close to me.

"Are you… having a down day?" he asked me cautiously, and I nod. His arms tighten imperceptibly around me, and his thumb grazes the skin on my stomach as he spoons me. But he's not trying to start anything. In this moment, I know he is offering his support. But today, support isn't going to do a thing.

"What can I do?" Troy asks, and I shake my head.

"Nothing. I just want to be alone."

"Baby, you are never alone. You shouldn't have to go through this alone, and I want to be here for you." His tone is insistent, trying to break through the haze of guilt that has descended over me. But I am unwavering in my guilt. So instead, I close my eyes and wish for a reprieve from this nightmare, and my exhaustion takes over, granting me my wish, albeit only for a little while.

6pm. Troy is still here. I might not be alone with him lying beside me, but in the darkness of my depravity, I know that I am eternally alone. _Don't forget what you did._ There is no rewind button on life. I cannot undo what has been done. I cannot forget what I did. Behind me, Troy has fallen asleep himself, and his deep, even breaths tickle my ear and lull me into a false sense of security. He sleeps like a baby. Like someone with all the innocence in the world; someone who did not kill their mother, someone who is not like me. I'm jealous, I realise, as I turn in his arms so I can face him, watch him as he sleeps without a care in the world. I'm jealous because I can't have that.

7pm. We are facing each other, but I am worlds away. I stare into Troy's blue eyes, but all I see are the kind green eyes of Officer Parkwell that day I saw my mother lying on the ground in a pool of her own blood. _Don't forget what you did._ My fault. I know. I take a steadying breath, and a shudder wracks through me at the awful memory.

"Gabriella, please, please talk to me." Troy pleads, and I turn away. I cannot look at him while I say this. I move so I am lying on my back, and he follows suit; in moments, we are both staring at the sterile white of my ceiling. I start to talk.

"You're going to think I'm crazy." I start, and his hand immediately seeks mine in the darkness, his fingers lacing through mine.

"I don't think you're crazy." He's calm, steadfast, resolute in his faith in me.

"You are. It is crazy." So saying, I began to unravel the happenings of last night, the reflection of myself taunting me with her cruel words. _Don't forget what you did_. All the while, I look away from Troy.

"Brie, come on. You know that's not true. None of it."  
"But it is my fault Troy. All of it. Do you know what it's like knowing that if I'd looked more closely, paid more attention, not left that day, I could have prevented it?" I questioned, finally looking to face him. He turned his head, a world of pain reflected in his eyes as he held my hand tight.

"I know that no matter what way you look at it Brie, it is not your fault. Your mother picked up that gun. She was the one who did this. She did this to you." _Don't forget what you did_. "And you should forget what you did, because you didn't freaking do anything, ok? You didn't know. You couldn't have known. At the end of the day, your mom did this to herself, and she took a little piece of you with her when she did. And maybe you can't have that back," he was sombre as he spoke, his voice low and serious. "But you aren't your mother, and you never will be. Because it wasn't what you did to her, but what she did to you. She hurt you Gabriella, more than I think you'd even care to admit. And for your own mental health, baby, you have to come to terms with what happened and let it go. You have to understand that it wasn't your fault."

"I… I don't know how." My voice wobbled uncertainly. "I don't know how to forget what I did Troy, or how to rewrite the story in my mind. It's too hard." Tenderly, I felt Troy stroke my cheek, pulling me close.

"So don't do it on your own. You have a bunch of us here to help you and support you. And when it gets too hard, like it was today, don't keep thinking 'don't forget what you did'. Think, don't forget about the people around you who can help. Because that's what you have, Brie. A support team." With that, he pulled me into his arms and this time, I did yield to his warmth.

9pm. I want a shower. Troy has offered to join me, but I decline. I need time to myself. As I rinse the shampoo out of my hair, the same thought that has haunted me all day returns with a vengeance. _Don't forget what you did_. I don't forget. I can't; because like it or not, what happened with my mother is a part of my past, present, and future. But Troy is right. I might not be able to forget, but I can change how I remember that day. It will be a long process. A difficult one. Closing my eyes, I imagine the abyss that I was in, the walls closing in around me; a sliver of light, a crack in the darkness, shines through from high above, and a rope comes down. Grabbing that rope tightly, I hoist myself up, and begin the long climb upward.


	27. Chapter 27

If someone had told me when I first moved here that I looked forward to going to my appointments with Dr Marin, and that Troy would be the one dropping me off, I would have laughed my fool head off. But almost five months later, that is exactly what's happening.

"So, my dad said he wants me to meet with him and Dr Marin together next week," I turned to Troy in the car, looking scandalised. He shrugged, unable to understand why I was freaking out.

"What's the big deal babe? It can't be about you, Aunt Leesh keeps telling you that you're making progress, right?"

"That is the problem, Troy. If it's not about me, then it's about them!" I exclaimed. "I mean, you remember New Year's lunch at your house? They were flirting, and my dad said they should get coffee when he was next in town. So if this meeting isn't about me, then it's about them, and it's weird!"

"Babe, come on. Is it really so bad? I mean, you always say Alicia is nice and like a mom figure to you. Is it so bad that your dad is giving this a chance? Besides, we don't even know if that's actually what it's about." I knew what Troy was saying was reasonable. Rationally, I knew it. But this was so weird to me. I mean, I'm happy my dad is starting to date. I think he deserves to be happy, and I'd do almost anything to make that happen. But of all people, Dr Marin? Wouldn't it be a conflict of interest? Wouldn't I have to change psychiatrists? Did this mean my dad was gonna be in town a lot more? I just had so many unanswered questions, and by the time Troy, pulled up to Dr Marin's office, I was mildly freaking out.

"Gabriella, look at me." Troy said, his tone firm and assuring. "I promise you, babe, it will all work itself out."

"How do you know?" I said, wringing my hands together.

"Because I do," he said simply. "Look, everything has a way of working itself out in the end, and I think you should stop worrying about this and look forward to my birthday party next week," he grinned cheekily. I knew it was an attempt to distract me, and I'll admit, it did work. I smiled, my cheeks going red at the thought of what I had gotten for his birthday, and I jumped out of the car before Troy could ask anything, waving at him behind my back.

I was early, for once, and I took a seat by the big bay window near Dr Marin's door, playing a game on my phone to pass the time. The door flew open a short while later, with Dr Marin ushering out a pale blonde girl about my age. I turned away to give them privacy, but the girl sat down in one of the chairs across the room. I'd never seen her before, and figured this must have been her first time, since she finished the session 10 minutes early.

"Gabriella," Dr Marin smiled at me, and I moved to get up, but she ushered me to sit down. "I'm really sorry, but would you mind giving me 15 minutes? I have a phone call to make, and it's rather urgent as I can't wait till tomorrow to call." She grimaced apologetically at me, and I smiled at her.

"Take your time, Dr Marin, I'm not in a rush," I assured her, settling back into my seat. She thanked me before rushing back into her office, the door slamming shut behind her.

I studied the girl across from me subtly, observing her. She was pretty. That was the first thing I noticed. Even covered in a hoodie and sweatpants two sizes too big for her, and hiding her face behind her hair, I could tell. She had the kind of thin frame I'd always coveted, and she looked to be about half a foot taller than me, which wasn't saying much, considering I was short. I was so busy looking at her that I didn't even realise she'd caught me staring until she caught my eyes, her big blue ones looking at me with trepidation.

"Sorry," I said quietly, feeling equal parts awkward and ashamed that I'd been analysing her. "I don't really see many people here for my appointments, that's all." I said, trying to come up with an excuse. I moved a little closer to her, and when she didn't move away, I figured I could approach her, and moved to sit three seats closer to her. "I'm Gabriella Montez," I introduced myself, sticking out my hand, waiting patiently to see if she'd grasp the olive branch I was offering.

She stared at my hand, and it was then I noticed her body shaking. Her blue eyes were so wide I thought they were going to pop out of her head, and she moved her hair to cover even more of her face. In front of me, she seemed to shrink away into nothing very quickly. I moved my hand back, and moved a couple of seats away to give her the distance she seemed to want.

"I'm sorry," she whispered after a beat. Her voice was low, with a musical quality to it, but it was a bit throaty, as if she wasn't used to using her voice. I shrugged, not wanting to scare her more than she was, waiting to see if she'd talk more. I don't know why, but I was curious about her.

"I'm Abby," her voice was barely higher than a whisper. "Abby Wheeler." She cleared her throat, a tentative smile gracing her face as she looked at me. I tried to hide my shock. This was Severell's girlfriend. The one who'd been raped at that party last year. Hiding my horror, I stuck my hand out again to see if she'd shake it this time around. Her hand trembled as she raised it, but eventually I felt her hand slide through mine, and she made a small noise at the contact. I let go quickly, so as not to make her more uncomfortable.

"You know who I am." She said it as a statement, not a question. I don't know what gave me away, but at this point, there was no reason to lie, so I nodded. "How?" she asked. "You weren't at East High last year, you didn't know me."

"I um… I'm dating Troy Bolton, and he introduced me to Severell on New Year's. Troy told me what happened after I asked the next day. I'm sorry," I knew I sounded awkward, but I made sure to reply, because she deserved this. She deserved the truth after what she'd been through, and I wasn't going to be someone who kept it from her.

"Logan…" Abby whispered, and I stared at her. "It's his first name. Logan Severell." I watched the myriad of emotions cross her face: longing, nostalgia, and sadly, fear. "He was there… that night. They said he found me."

"He did; he called the police and an ambulance." I said, not knowing whether it was my place to say these things. After all, I wasn't there, I'd heard it all second hand from Troy. Still, I felt this urge to defend Severell, to show Abby he was a good guy. The way he acted at the New Year's party alone tells me he was still affected by this incident, and I wanted to help both of them.

"So, he helped me?" I nodded, leaving her to her thoughts. As much as I wanted to give my opinion, I knew it wasn't my place. There was a line, and if I continued to talk about things I didn't really know about, I'd cross it, without doubt.

After a beat, she spoke again. "He always wanted to help, didn't he? The place I was in… they said he contacted me sometimes, just to make sure I was okay. But I can't face him." She teared up, and I moved a bit closer, wanting to instinctively comfort her.

"Are you… scared of him?" She slumped her shoulders, and I thought I had my answer.

"I'm scared of a lot of men, and I'm… I'm ashamed Gabriella. I can't face him, not after this." My heart went out for her. I mean, we both had traumatic incidents happen to us, but her pain was worse than mine. She was a victim, through and through, and her life was forever changed by something that wasn't in her control.

"There's nothing to be ashamed about." I said in a hushed tone. "You were drugged; you didn't have control. Severell… he still loves you, Troy told me. He would want to protect you."

"He's a good guy," Abby agreed instantly, tears welling up in her eyes. "He was the best, actually. I loved him so much; he was the one person in school, in the world even, who I relied on to help me through anything." She sniffled, wiping at her face with the sleeve of her sweater. "But I won't put him through this. I can't go back to school, back to my life, and pretend I'm still good enough for him."

"Of course you're good enough for him," I began to protest, and she interrupted me.

"Gabriella, I can't even be touched by a man. I can't hold their hand, I can't kiss them, I can barely even be in the same room as them. So I can't. I can't put Logan through that. He had my whole heart before the… well, before. Maybe he still does. But I can't go back to him and let him be with someone who can't reciprocate."

"At least give him the chance, you know? He doesn't have to touch you, but you can always call him, text him, just have him in your life. It might help," I suggested, toeing the line of acceptable advice, not wanting to push her.

She sighed deeply, running a hand through her hair over and over again. "I want to, but… I can't. My parents won't even let me see him." She looked frustrated, and I remembered that Troy said the same thing about her parents. "I want to," she repeated, "but they say it won't make it better." I don't know who she was trying to convince: me, or herself; the way she said it though, made me think it was the latter.

"Will you tell him I said hello? If you see him? Tell him thank you… and tell Logan I hope sunrise is as good for him as it is for me." She smiled wistfully, and I didn't want to intrude on an obviously happy memory for her, so I nodded my agreement to her request, and moved to get up to go into Dr Marin's. The 15 minutes of waiting were up. Turning abruptly, I called to her.

"Abby," she looked up at me, those blue eyes so lovely that it was no wonder Severell loved her. She was beautiful, no matter what she did to hide herself from others. I moved towards her, ripping a page from a notebook in my bag and scrawling my number on it. "This is my number, if you ever want to… I don't know, hang out, watch a movie, anything really. You deserve to be happy." I smiled at her, hoping to convey how genuine my offer was. "You don't have to call right away… just… whenever you're ready. I'll be here to hang out." She took the proffered piece of paper, her fingers lightly tracing over the numbers inscribed on it. She didn't say anything, so I turned around and went into Dr Marin's office, distracted entirely by what had just happened. I think she knew I didn't want to talk about it, because she didn't pry. I couldn't even say what was said during our session, I was so lost in my own little world. As I drove home, I promised myself that the first thing I did in school would be to find Logan Severell. He deserved this, and I owed it to Abby to fulfil her one request from me.

The next day at school, I went about my day, waiting for 3rd period. AP calc was full of seniors, and Taylor and I were the only juniors in the class. I knew Severell was in it, though I never noticed him until after the New Year's party, since I sat at the front, and he sat at the back. Still, as I walked in, he was already there, and I moved towards him, a note I'd already written before clutched in my clammy hand. I cleared my throat to get his attention, and he looked up, grinning at me in that easy-going way of his.

"Did you finally get rid of Bolton and see that I was the right man for you," Severell joked with me, and I shook my head at him, blushing at his familiarity just like I did on New Year's. Wordlessly, I handed him the note, and watched as he looked up at me, his eyes darkening with curiosity. As the bell rang, and more people filed in, I could only hope that Severell would follow my instructions, so we could talk away from the crowds.

The next two periods before lunch were excruciatingly slow, almost as if time was suspended, slowing itself in anticipation for Abby's message to Severell. At last, the bell rang, and I raced for Troy and I's rooftop. I knew Troy wasn't coming today, as the basketball team had film during lunch today, so there wouldn't be any interruptions between Logan and I.

As I settled onto a bench, I waited nervously for Severell. It didn't take long for him to come, as I heard the heavy footsteps climbing the stairs. Suddenly he was in front of me, eyes curiously blank, posture tensed, as if he wasn't sure why he was here.

"Cool place," he remarked.

"Troy showed it to me at the start of the year, when we first started dating." I smiled softly. "It's our place, but I thought this would be a good place to um… talk." I coughed nervously, and watched as he sat down at a bench. He really was handsome, I thought. His hair was dark, almost black even in daylight, and he had a sharp jawline. Together, you'd think it would make him look quite rough, intimidating even. But his green eyes were kind, so devoid of any malice and cruelty, that it transformed him entirely. I could see him and Abby together just as clearly as I saw me and Troy together, or Kelsi and Jason.

"So," he brought me out of my own thoughts. "Why am I here, Gabriella?" he looked tired. Haunted. As if he hadn't slept in a really long time. "If you brought me here to fish for dirt on Abby, then I swear to God, I'm leaving." He said finally, after I'd been quiet for a while, and he moved to get up.

"No!" I exclaimed. "I would never!" I ran a hand down my face, frustrated. How do I say this? "I just… I have a message from Abby for you, that's all, I swear." His head whipped around, so fast I was surprised he didn't get whiplash. He was stunned.

"You what?" he whispered. He sat down again, his hands shaking.

"I have a message," I repeated, my own hands trembling. "From Abby. I saw her yesterday afternoon."

"How did you see her?" he demanded. "No one in this school has seen her. Not her friends, not… me" he choked on the last word, and I felt bad all over again for him. This couldn't be easy.

"I um… saw her at the doctor's. She had just finished her appointment, and I was early for mine. We spoke for a while. I didn't know who she was until she said her name."

"But you knew what happened to her." He said, knowing the answer already. I nodded.

"Troy told me after the New Year's party."

Severell was so pale he looked like he was going to pass out any minute, and I wished I could help him. "How… how is she?" he asked me hesitantly, staring straight ahead, not looking at me.

"She's… well, she's ok, I guess. She talked to me, so she at least can talk to people. But she's not great." I didn't know how to answer any other way. I didn't want to betray Abby's trust.

"Will she see me?" He said, the evident hope in his voice almost breaking my heart. Hesitantly, I put my hand on his shoulder, and he sagged under my touch, completely defeated. He knew the answer before I could even say it.

"No, she… I think she wants to. But she's convinced herself she's not good for you, and her parents are worried how your presence might affect her." He made a noise of despair and scowled, suddenly getting up and pacing in front of me.

"Her parents need to let her make her own decisions!" he roared. "I was the one who fucking found her. I was the one who fucking helped her. Do they really think I have it in me to lay a hand on her? To fucking hurt her?" He yelled, and I waited, letting him get it out. Sighing, he sat back down, running a hand through his messy hair. "It's not fair," he croaked, and I could see the emotion he was trying to hold back. I scooted closer to him, putting my hand back on his shoulder.

"I know it's not." I said.

"What was the message? What did she want to say to me?" Severell asked.

"She said to tell you hello. And to tell you thank you. And then she said, tell Logan that she hopes the sunrise is as good for him as it is for me." At that, I felt a shudder wrack his body, and I realised he was crying. Not subtle tears that you see in movies, but real sobs, ones that couldn't be quieted and soothed away by another's touch. They were all consuming cries, ones that had to be expelled from the body before they could eat you alive. We sat there for God knows how long, my hand on his shoulder, his body sagged in total defeat as his cries died down and he wiped at his face, surprisingly not embarrassed from the crying.

"She was the only one I knew who called me Logan. My teammates call me Sev, and the rest of the school call me Severell. Even my parents don't really call me Logan. It was just her." He said gruffly, swiping at a few stray tears on his face. "And the sunrise thing? We used to drive to this mountain top on the outskirts of Albuquerque, and I'd park the car and we'd just talk until the sun rose. It was her favourite time of day, and eventually, it was mine as well. You said this is yours and Troy's place; well, that mountaintop at sunrise was mine and Abby's. Just ours." He was a million miles away, grasping at a memory of a time long forgotten until just now.

"For what it's worth, I think she still loves you." I said, clasping my hands in front of me as if I was praying. "She said she's terrified of men, but the whole time we talked, she didn't once say she was afraid of you, or say a bad thing against you. If anything, she talked about how good you are." I said, feeling bad for revealing Abby's secrets, but simultaneously feeling good that I may have offered Severell some peace.

"If you see her, will you tell her I love her?" Severell asked, and I nodded. "Actually, wait." He said. He grabbed his backpack, pulling out a notebook and pen, and started scribbling furiously onto the page. "Just give this to her." He handed me the note, and I took it, carefully placing it into my bag before standing up.

"Thanks Gabriella. I know this is a lot to ask, but will you… I don't know, will you take care of her? Talk to her, help her? Please." He pleaded, and I nodded, promising him that I'd help anyway that I could.

"You're a good guy, Severell. You and Abby deserve to be happy." I said sincerely, as we moved towards the door at the bottom of the stairwell.

"So do you and Troy." He responded, not wanting to give away anything more now that we were so close to being in public.

But, as we pushed the door open, and came face to face with Troy, I realised with dawning horror how this must look to him a split second before Troy opened his mouth. Oh, no.

Fists clenched at his side, jaw tight with anger, and worst of all, eyes brimming with betrayal, Troy erupted. "What the fuck is going on here?" he said. Severell opened his mouth to explain, but there was nothing to be said before Troy moved forward and punched him in the face. Severell staggered back from the force of the punch, rubbing at his jaw. I, meanwhile, was so stunned I was frozen in place, my mouth dropped in shock.

"I thought I could trust you, Gabriella." Troy said, and I snapped out of my trance, moving forward to touch him. He recoiled, taking a few steps away from me. "I can't even look at you right now." He spat, before turning around and marching away from me.

Shit.


	28. Chapter 28

"Shit, Gabriella, I'm sorry," Severell continued to rub his jaw as he apologised again. "He'll come around, just tell him the truth."

I shook my head. "I can't betray you and Abby's secrets just to appease Troy." Of this, I was sure. Nothing would be worse than trying to gain Troy's trust back by betraying Abby and Severell's. They deserved their privacy. "He should trust me after all this time. And if he can't, well… then I don't know." I finished in a whisper, wincing at the thought of having to go back to a life without Troy in it. "Don't worry about it. It's not your problem," I faked a smile and waved goodbye, hoping to rush out of there before Severell could say anything more, and before I could feel the urge to cry.

Troy was 15 minutes late to English. Mr Canella yelled at him so loudly that you'd think Troy committed a felony. All he did in response was slink back to his regular seat next to me, studiously avoiding eye contact with me, a murderous glare stuck on his face. Taylor looked quizzically at the both of us, but I avoided her gaze as surely as Troy avoided mine. But as we sat down and the shock of what had happened during lunch receded, I realised how angry I was. Angry that Troy jumped to conclusions. Angry that his first thought was to use his fists and not his head. And worst of all, angry that he didn't trust me. So when the bell rang, I packed my things quietly, rage simmering under the surface, and this time, I actively ignored him. He might think that I was going to be the one to apologise, but I haven't done anything wrong, and if he wanted to believe I was, well then, he wasn't as good a person as I hoped he would be.

"What's going on?" Taylor hissed as I marched towards the door, fully aware that Troy was burning holes into my back with his eyes.

"Nothing," I said sweetly, "Troy has just decided that he doesn't trust me, and so doesn't wait for me to explain like a normal human. Instead, he turns into the Hulk and punches people for no good reason at all." I made sure my voice was pitched loud enough that Troy could hear, and I knew instinctively that he was scowling at me. I didn't even have to turn around.

"I don't get it." Taylor said. "What happened?"

"Nothing, Troy saw me with Severell, you know the guy on the hockey team?" She nodded, "Well, he saw us coming out from the place that Troy and I usually go to be alone, and he just assumed things. Which, on one hand is completely reasonable. But then he didn't even wait for an explanation, he just punched Severell and walked off!" I was almost yelling at the end, my anger still so very present.

"Gabby, I hate to be on his side… but don't you think he has a point?" Taylor said gently, her tone kind and devoid of judgment. "I mean," she hurriedly continued, "you were in a private place that you and Troy go to be alone. It's not a giant leap to think that being there with another guy might mean something."

"Honestly Taylor, I have never given Troy any reason not to trust me. I don't flirt, I don't even really speak to many guys. I had a good reason to be taking Severell somewhere in private, and unfortunately for Troy, I can't just betray other peoples' trust because he doesn't trust me."

"But he only doesn't trust you because it's a suspicious situation. Are you honestly telling me that you wouldn't think along the same lines if you saw Troy and some girl in the same situation?" Taylor challenged as we walked towards the library.

"Well… you're right about that I guess." I admitted. "But, at the same time, I'd wait for an explanation! I've always known he has a temper, and it's fine. It's not abusive, it's not out of control. He's just protective and gets easily jealous. Honestly, I sometimes like that he's like that, it makes me feel protected. But this is too much. Tay, he didn't wait for an explanation at all. I'm not kidding when I tell you he made up his mind about what happened in literally the space of 30 seconds." I shook my head, not knowing what to do about this whole mess.

"I guess you're right. Chad is surprisingly mild-mannered, so I don't really have that problem." Tay shrugged, unable to offer me more advice. The conversation slowly dwindled as we got stuck into our work. There wasn't much else to say. I was going to stand my ground on this; Troy needed to learn how to deal with his temper, because it was clouding his judgment and his trust in me, and I didn't want to be with someone like that.

"Gabriella," Severell saw me as I was packing up my library books, ready for my final class of the day. He had a large bruise blooming on his cheekbone and a smaller one on his jawline. I gasped.

"Oh my god, Severell, I'm so, so sorry!" I exclaimed, moving forward to look at his jaw.

"It's ok Gabriella, it's just a bruise. I'm a hockey player, I've had worse," he grinned, then winced slightly. Seeing Severell only made me more resolute in how determined I was to take a stand against Troy right now. He didn't deserve this; the guy was more or less grieving the loss of the girl he loved, who—for all that she was still technically alive—couldn't bear to be with him. And this is what he gets for wanting to hear about her? "Anyway, I just wanted to say that you can tell Troy the truth about what happened up there."

"I'm not going to," I said immediately.

"Look," Severell began, then stopped as he saw people around us eavesdropping. Dragging me by the arm to a corner of the library, he continued. "I know what it's like not to get to be with the person you love. I've been wishing for Abby to come back to me for almost a year now, and it sucks, Gabriella. If you feel like that towards Troy, then don't let him slip by out of some loyalty towards us. I won't be mad, and I know Abby wouldn't either. In fact, she'd be angry if you _didn't_ tell him." He stressed the last part. "Don't waste a chance on being happy."

I softened. "If it comes to it, I'll tell him. But I just want him to trust me."

Severell laughed. "Gabriella, no offence, but the situation warranted mistrust. I mean, you're hot, and I'm a good-looking guy. We both were coming out from the same door that led to a private place. It's not difficult to connect those dots."

"But I've never given him reason before not to trust me."

"Doesn't matter." Severell's answer was immediate. "You could be the perfect girlfriend, but that situation will always make a guy crazy. Hell, it's why I didn't fight Bolton back when he punched me. I'd have done the same if it was Abby." He shrugged, as if this behaviour was totally normal. Men. Total Neanderthals.

"I'll talk to him. Thanks Severell," He smiled and turned around to leave, but abruptly turned back around when I called after him.

"What?" he asked.

"You deserve to be happy too. Abby is back, and you have the chance to be happy, like before. I won't waste my chance, so long as you don't waste yours." I said, smiling gently at him. His eyes grew suspiciously moist at my words, but he blinked back the tears and gave me a watery smile, gruffly thanking me before hurriedly leaving the library.

"Everything ok?" Taylor asked from behind me. I nodded, quiet and lost in thought. "Well," she said, "if it makes you feel better, watching you guys talk for literally 2 minutes, you can tell there's nothing going on. Not a single ounce of chemistry between you guys. More like brother and sister."

"You don't say," I said dryly, and she nodded vigorously.

"Uh huh, I know chemistry. I love chemistry. And honey? You don't have it with him, no matter how hot that guy is." I laughed. That was one thing about Taylor; I could always count on her to deliver the truth with her usual blunt manner. Feeling better, I headed to my final class without a cloud of anxiety hanging over me. This would resolve itself, I knew. That feeling of comfort dissolved the second I walked in, as I saw Troy hanging at Nikki's desk, twirling her hair and blatantly flirting with her for all to see. I sucked in a sharp breath, keeping my head down as I headed to my seat at the back of the class, tears on the verge of spilling over. How could he do this to me?

"Not so fun when the tables are turned, huh?" Troy said, his blue eyes ice cold as he looked at me.

I sniffled quietly, catching a stray tear from under my eye. "Fuck you," I said to him. "You couldn't trust me or wait long enough to hear why I was really upstairs with Severell, and you think this is the best way to get back at me? You've only succeeded in making more of an ass of yourself." _Don't back down, Gabriella_ , I coached myself. I could do this.

"What, other than the obvious, could you possibly have been doing up on the rooftop?" Troy said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"How about the fact that I saw Abby Wheeler yesterday at Dr Marin's?" I snapped, and I saw Troy still from the corner of my eye. "And that she asked me to give Severell a message, a private one that I didn't want to do with everyone looking at us? How about the fact that I have never given you any reason not to trust me, and I am so unbelievably insulted that you thought I would cheat on you. How about that?" I said, flipping open my notebook angrily.

"Brie," I looked up, seeing Troy swallow and work up the nerve to say something. The pained look in his eyes told me that he knew he was wrong, but that wasn't enough for me. I turned back around and focused on the class, taking copious amounts of notes and listening to the teacher drone on and on. I could feel Troy's eyes on me the whole time, but I refused to look at him. I was still angry, and I didn't want to risk the chance that I'd soften and eventually cave in easily to Troy and his ridiculous temper.

Eventually, though, I knew I couldn't avoid him. Class would end, and he'd make sure to stop me to talk to him. Not to mention that Coach Bolton was out sick today and tomorrow, so there was no basketball practice that Troy had to get to after this class. And, just like I predicted, the second the final bell rang, Troy was scrambling to make sure he was ready to leave when I was.

"Brie, I need to talk to you. Please," he pleaded, and I continued to quietly pack away my things, quickly slinging my bag over my shoulder and holding my head up high as I passed him.

"Troysie," Nikki sang as we walked past her, quickly attaching herself to Troy and stroking his arm. I felt myself ready to slap her hand away from him and tell her that Troy is mine, but right now, standing my ground was more important. Troy was a big boy. If he wanted to fight Nikki off, he could damn well do it himself.

I felt a small (ok, a big) surge of satisfaction when Troy moved off her and told her to fuck off. At least he knew that much. Still, all these distractions meant that by the time I reached my locker, the hallways of East high were pretty empty, and Troy and I were left more or less alone as I gathered the books I would need for the afternoon. Troy stood quietly by, waiting for me. He stayed quiet as I made my way to my car, only moving so that he could sit in the passenger seat, despite me never telling him he could come into the car. Clearly, he wasn't budging on the

"I don't know that there's anything you can say that could possibly make me less mad, Troy. Severell says I should forgive you, but doing that means that I am condoning your shitty behaviour and even shittier temper." I said, "and don't even argue with me that you have a temper," I snapped, watching his nostrils flare. "I didn't deserve your ire today, and neither did Severell. You should have trusted me, given me the benefit of the doubt. But you didn't. Have I ever shown any indication that I would ever even think to cheat on you? Because I don't think I have." I sighed, realising how much I was speaking. Troy's eyes were tight, the crinkles around the corners betraying his obvious pain. "Apparently, the situation warranted mistrust, according to both Taylor and Severell. And fine, I'll give you that. Maybe that's true. But if that's the case, then what you at least owed me was the chance to explain myself and what really happened."

"Brie, you have to understand, the rooftop is our place." He protested, raking his hand through his hair. "Taking someone else there feels like you don't care about our place, that it's just a convenient area for you to hang out in when you don't want to be seen."

"Maybe so, but I used that place because it is ours, and because Severell could understand that. Him and Abby have a place. He gets it. And on top of that, taking him there meant that he could trust us. If you'd walked in at any point, there would be nothing suspicious going on."

"Do you know how humiliated and upset I was to see you guys coming down those stairs?" Troy questioned rhetorically, his eyes blazing.

"About as humiliated as I was walking into class and seeing you blatantly flirting with Nikki," I snapped, crossing my arms indignantly and trying not to show how hurt I really was by that incident.

"I know," he sighed, his eyes softening to molten blue as he reached over to grasp my hand. I let him. "Brie, I was angry. I know that's not an excuse, I know, I just… reacted. I went into self-preservation mode, you know?" I stared straight ahead.

"You keep saying that, you know, ever since I met you?" I said softly, not trying to provoke him even more. "You keep admitting to having a temper, but I feel like you don't make any effort to overcome it. And then you react this way with me, or you snap at someone, or even worse, punch them in the face like you did this morning. It's not right."

We were both quiet for a long time. "I know I lose it, I _know_ that," Troy confesses, "But I can't help it. When it comes to you, I just lose any thread of control I have."  
"I don't claim to be perfect," I start quietly, not really knowing where I was going with this. "I eat too much, I have so many problems it's a wonder you or anyone else thinks of me as anything but broken, and I don't always go about things the right way." Troy's hand tightens on my hand, holding on for dear life. "But I have never used those things as an excuse to intentionally hurt you or question your loyalty the way you did with me today."

Troy makes an anguished sound at the back of his throat, his thumb stroking my palm. "I'm sorry, baby, I'm so fucking sorry. If I could take back all of today, I would. I swear." He's vehement in his response, and I know his apology is completely sincere. My heart thaws a little at this, and I squeeze his hand. "I can't promise to be perfect, but I promise not to let my temper get the best of me like I did today. I'll apologise to Severell right now; not because you would want me to, but because you're right. He's good people, and he doesn't deserve it."

"That's good," I nodded, leaning back in my seat, feeling some of the tension I'd been carrying around me leave my body. "I believe that you're sorry. Now. But who's to say that in a couple of months, a similar situation happens, and you won't react the exact same way. How do I know you won't hurt me like you did today?" I challenge him, pulling myself together behind a passive face so as not to show my vulnerability.

He was quiet, going over my question in his head. "I can't tell you that my temper will never rear its ugly head ever again. I'm not a fortune teller, I can't predict the future." Troy said truthfully. "I can promise this though." He turned his full body to face me. "You mean the world to me. I love you, there is no doubt about that. And next time, I will take into consideration the fact that you love me too before I do anything rash. I'll give you a chance to explain before I just walk out like today. I promise." He said it solemnly, the way a groom would promise to cherish his bride for the rest of his life. Tears sprung in my eyes, and I sniffled loudly.

"I hate fighting," I said, wiping under my eyes. Troy chuckled.

"Me too, baby. But honestly, I'm too hard-headed and stubborn for us to never fight." He grinned, and I felt the world right itself a little as I laughed with him.

"And I'm oversensitive and just as stubborn," I agreed, before turning the keys in the ignition to start the car.

"I plead the fifth," Troy grinned, not denying my comments. "So, are we headed back to yours for some hot makeup sex?" He asked, settling himself into his seat.

"Don't you have your own car?"

"I'll swing by afterwards to pick it up," he waved off my concern, wholly focused on the promise of my empty house and the makeup sex that I was admittedly looking forward to.

"Ok, ok," I said, turning out of the school's car park.

"So, how's Abby?" Troy asked me cautiously as I looked for an opening on the road.

"She's fine." I said, not wanting to divulge more than that. As much as I loved Troy, I wasn't going to talk about Abby as if she was gossip, and I told him as much.

"I don't think it's gossip, I just wanted to know how she was doing!" Troy said, his arms going up as if to say he's innocent.

"She's fine, Troy, but I don't want to say more. It's not my place or yours to discuss her wellbeing, and I know if someone was talking about me being at Dr Marin's, I'd feel more than a little comfortable. So let's just leave it at that." I said, continuing to focus on the road.

As we reached a traffic light, Troy leaned over and kissed my temple. "And that loyalty right there," he said, "is one of the reasons why I love you so damn much."

I smiled over at him, my cheeks warming at the affection and thanking my lucky stars that I had a relationship that would withstand a lot more than I thought it could.


End file.
